When I See You Again
by SharkbaitSekki
Summary: Things that are lost can be replaced. Places that are lost can be reclaimed. Time that is lost can be made up. And people who are lost can always be found. In a world where dying does not result in death anymore, staying alive can be as simple as staying hopeful. (And every road you take will always lead you home). Zombie!AU
1. Without You

**Author's Note**

 **A lot of things are happening in my life right now and I need something to express my anger and all these negative emotions. So obviously, I wrote a zombie AU lol. Captains-centric again, with a bonus of Ushiwaka at some point, and a ton of background characters.**

 **Note to CML readers: as noted above, I am not doing super well lately so please don't expect an update soon. I'm very very sorry :c**

 **This work is inspired by vashiane's Under the Red Sky, on AO3, and if you are into zombies, it's a really good read. 10/10 recommend. The universe is adapted from a setting I came up with for a Hetalia roleplay forum, called Terra Sigma. The title comes from Wiz Khalifa's song, See You Again, and I picked it because this story's largely gonna be about things lost and things found and things that are reborn from the ashes of things that have perished. I haven't spoken to my friends in a long time, and one of them sent me a link to this song, and it rang a bell inside of me, and I knew I had to write about it.**

 **Explanations about the AU itself in the bottom notes. No warnings in particular, but any zombie AU is bound to have gore in it. Please enjoy**.

* * *

Bokuto knew, from the moment he woke up, that something big would be happening today. He didn't know what it was. He didn't know how he knew. But he just did. Today would be no ordinary day.

Of course, it might just have been the sight of Kuroo still in bed that threw Bokuto off, but no. He was sure that it would be something bigger, and much more unexpected than his usually-diligent friend lazing in bed.

(Not to discredit the unusual nature of the sight, regardless).

"Bro," Bokuto groaned out, barely awake himself. Climbing on the bottom bunk, which he'd claimed as his own, he hoisted himself high enough to get a better look at the top bunk, where the faint outline of Kuroo's body was visible under the thin covers. "Wake up, Kuroo. You're late."

"Go 'way," the other boy grunted, shifting slightly to curl up on himself. "Tired."

"Yeah right. At this time of the day, you're usually up and exercising down in the common room. The sun's rising, and so should you!" Bokuto chastised him, though he knew he'd do the same if he had the choice.

"Just for today..." Kuroo sighed, turning around to look at his friend. Aforementioned friend immediately locked his gaze onto the large bags under his eyes and cringed, but only patted his head sarcastically.

"No can do. We've got work to do, you know it."

"I know," Kuroo acknowledged, and sighed, looking away. "Fine. I'll be up in five minutes."

"I'll save you a slice of toast," Bokuto promised, moving off the bed and losing Kuroo from immediate sight.

"I want two," the black-haired boy grumbled, and Bokuto heard him turn back to the other side before he headed away.

Yep. That was unusual, alright. But Bokuto still felt like it wasn't all.

(Maybe Daichi would tell them today was a day off during dispatch. That'd be a weird, but welcome incidence).

Still dressed in his pyjama bottoms -patterned with cute owls with big eyes, Bokuto's favourite- and a large white sweater, Bokuto yawned, and headed for the fireman pole that would let him move quickly down to the common area.

The rising sun now moving out from behind the horizon, its warm orange light filtered through the windows lining the walls of the tall warehouse they lived in and basked all of the bunk beds on the landing in a soft glow. Below, on the ground level of the warehouse, people were already moving around to go get breakfast, or to snag a seat on one of the common room's comfortable couches before everyone else. The landings on three sides of the warehouse walls were high, about twenty feet up, and the chatter of the morning crowd was but a whisper to Bokuto's ears from there.

It was just another morning at Sendai, the warehouse that served as a headquarter for division Sigma-Six of the National Extermination Team. It was one of the ten sub-divisions in Divison Sigma, which took in the lowest age recruits, Bokuto reminded himself as he watched one of their youngest members pull a piece of toast from under his shirt, probably a third piece he'd swiped from the kitchen despite tight rationing rules. The kid must've been one of the drafted ones; the look on his face spoke volumes about how he wished to be miles and miles away from this place right now.

But there was nothing he could do. Nothing any of them could do. They were here until the monsters outside were all dead, and there was nothing that could change that. Bokuto had long since learned to forget his circumstances and just roll with it. He set himself a routine, and if he didn't think about it too much, surviving out here became a whole lot easier after the first few weeks.

He grabbed the fireman pole, the twenty-foot drop no longer impressing him after four months of having been there, and let himself slide down. As his heart leaped -it always did, the traitorous thing- initially, and the cold metal rubbed his palms raw, he figured that his gut was just overreacting, and that he could have just one piece of toast for breakfast. But just this once.

Kuroo joined him for breakfast a while later, after Bokuto had finished his slice of toast and glass of milk. Though he was late, he still managed to finish everything fifteen minutes before the dispatch began, and so he and Bokuto headed back up to the bunks to get changed for the day.

"I hate going back up," Bokuto grumbled as they both got onto the ladder that connected the bottom area and the landing. They could have taken the winding emergency staircase that also led all the way up to their laboratory, but that took twice as long, and was even more tiring than the ladder. Only the newbies still too scared of the fireman pole and ladders took that staircase. "It's such a pain. Wish we were allowed to use the elevator."

"The day we'll be allowed to use the elevator is the day we'll have to call a Code Blue. And I don't know about you, but I am not down for being sieged by zombies in my own safe house," Kuroo snickered from below him, following his ascent closely.

"We need to find a way to make electricity more accessible. That way, we won't have to worry about rationing our use of the elevator," Bokuto mused out loud, his arms shaking from the ascent. He was halfway there, according to the piece of duct tape he passed, and that he'd purposely set there to give him a cue of how far he'd gotten.

"I think that's the smartest thing you've said in a long time, you big brute," Kuroo teased him, his feet clanging on the metal rungs rhythmically. "Maybe if we get enough budget next term, we can invest in solar panels. Or man-powered energy bikes."

"That's a really good idea, Kuroo!" Bokuto exclaimed. "Brilliant! It's like a workout, too, so you get your cardio done in the morning, and then you take the elevator up to your bunk to change!"

"That's an oxymoron. Why would you do your cardio on a bike and then take an elevator when you can just take the stairs?"

"Cause stairs are a pain! And this ladder is, too!" And thus, evacuating the last of his frustration towards the metal object, Bokuto reached the top, and crawled onto the landing, falling on his back with a groan.

"You're so old, Bokuto. Your cardio's worse than an eighty year-old's," Kuroo chuckled, reaching the landing slightly heaving, but reaching down to pull Bokuto up nonetheless.

"Your face is getting old," Bokuto huffed right back, taking his friend's hand and getting up anyway.

"Try harder next time," the black-haired boy rolled his eyes, and then glanced over to another one of their members, who was heading towards them with a toothbrush in his mouth. "Oh hey, Daichi."

The other boy, with shorter-cut black hair and dark brown eyes, looked up at the sound of his name, and nodded in acknowledgement at them.

"Morning," he greeted them with a slightly muffled voice. "Don't be late to dispatch."

"We won't be," Kuroo assured him, smirking at Sendai's dispatch agent lazily.

"So what was today's topic of debate on your way up the ladder?" Daichi asked them, if only a little more amusedly than before.

"Elevator use," Bokuto immediately volunteered. "I think it's time we give our two cents about the budget around here and suggest buying power-generating bikes-"

"Alright, alright. Write an open letter to N.E.T., Bokuto," Daichi dismissed him with a slight smile, heading off. "See you in ten minutes sharp."

"Daichi's so impractical," Bokuto huffed, crossing his arms with a pout. "The mail around here comes and goes with the supply drops once a month. I need to make the higher-ups aware of this suggestion much quicker than that. Preferably by tomorrow, so that we can use the elevator by next week."

"Well, Bokuto," Kuroo grinned, ruffling his friend's white hair mockingly. "Maybe if you're lucky, you can send your letter out with the next supply drop in a couple of weeks. And if you're even luckier, the Division Sigma supervisor won't immediately use it to help start his fireplace!"

"What the hell would I do without your support, Kuroo?" Bokuto shook his head, Kuroo's hand dropping off his hair, and shrugged. He'd known it, anyway. It was just fun to fantasize, sometimes. "Alright, whatever. Let's just get dressed and go get our assignments. Do you think I should wear a field outfit or a training outfit today?"

"Knowing your luck, I'd tell you to wear a field outfit," Kuroo snickered. "From what I saw outside the windows up here this morning, it's a clear day with moderate temperatures and strong winds. And you know what that means."

"Yup," Bokuto nodded, rolling his eyes, and regrettably dropping his soft owl-print pyjama bottoms. "It's the perfect day for slaughter."

In the end, they were two minutes late to dispatch, but the look Daichi gave them as they sheepishly scooted into the conference room said that he'd expected this turnout already.

"As I was saying," he continued after their brief interruption. "There's no special mention for anyone today, so it's just another day. Your assignments and quotas are going to be hung up in the common room after the dispatch, as usual, so refer to them to plan ahead. Also, reminder that today is laundry day, so drop your laundry in the chute before you leave for the day. Lunch will be at half past noon for those who are not going out, and dinner will be at six o' clock."

"What are we having for dinner?" Bokuto asked immediately, knowing he probably wouldn't be around for lunch.

"Ask a groundskeeper if you're so eager to know, Bokuto," Daichi sighed, flipping a page on his clipboard. "Other pertinent questions?"

It seemed like it was too early for anybody but Daichi to be thinking, and so no concerns were raised.

"Alright. Today's going to be cloudy with dispersed showers, high of 20 degrees Celsius, with strong winds. It's now 0810 hours on Thursday September 18 2043, and day 162 since the beginning of the Sigma-6 initiative. Have a safe and productive day, everyone."

And with that, they were dismissed to go prepare for the day. People filed out of the small room with grumbles and hushed conversations, either to go wait for the assignments to be posted, or to go help themselves to more coffee, the only commodity not tightly rationed in their base. Bokuto decided against artificial sleep this morning, though Kuroo wordlessly followed the crowd to the kitchen. The white-haired boy didn't blame him, not after how he'd woken up that morning.

The crowd split once they were out into the main area of the warehouse-turned-base, half of them heading right towards the door that led to the kitchen, and the other half heading left where the 'common room' was set up in the corner. Bokuto rushed to vault over the back of a couch and drop onto the cushion, scaring the wits out of a newer recruit that wasn't used to his eccentricity yet.

He waited without a word, fiddling with the straps on his forearm guards idly, until Daichi strode into the common room with his clipboard in his hands and went over to the billboard in the back to switch the old assignment list with the recent one. Bokuto was one of the first ones to make himself a path to the sheet, eager to get his assignment before he got caught in the morning crowd.

And by 'crowd', he didn't mean much, but the dozen people in the warehouse at the moment were enough of a crowd for him.

(They used to be a lot more. But life was such a fragile commodity, and Bokuto had long-since learned that it was so volatile that there would be no use in making every loss a bereavement).

As they'd guessed, Bokuto was assigned to the field today, and yet he got a small pleasure from seeing Kuroo's assignment being in the field as well. They wouldn't be heading to the same sector of the city they were trying to clear currently, but they were heading there together, so that was a plus. Usually, they'd be partnered up with someone else, but the lack of staffing constrained Daichi to sending people on solo expeditions and praying they came back by curfew.

Bokuto hoped they got new recruits soon. There was something disturbing about hunting zombies without having his back being watched.

It was the first time today that the word had crossed his mind. Zombies. It was one thing to think about those soulless monsters, and a whole other thing to put a name to them. The aggressive-sounding term they'd been attributed never failed to send a shiver down Bokuto's spine, no matter how used he was to the thought of them. The skip of his heart as he headed to the armoury heralded the beginning of a brand new day in Sendai.

The uneasiness he'd been feeling in the morning had become exacerbated into apprehension. Bokuto didn't mind it, and embraced the tension in his limbs. After all, these days, fear was an important part of any balanced breakfast.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

The gut feeling Bokuto had woken up with still hadn't left him by the time he was geared up and ready to go, and he'd long since learned to trust his gut as much as possible. Still, even after triple-checking his equipment, his ammo, his handgun, his backpack, his crowbar, his knife, his supplies and his dirt bike, even after spending a whole hour making sure everything was indeed in order (much to Kuroo's exasperation), he still couldn't shake the feeling off. Still, at some point, they were the only two field assignations still at the HQ, and Kuroo made a valid point when he mentioned that their "amazing skill" wouldn't help them fill their quota if they didn't have enough time to use their skills.

In the end, Bokuto and Kuroo got on their dirt bikes and left towards their target city without a clear conscience. But these days, nobody could be picky with the state of their peace of mind. What they got is all they'd get. With that in mind, they drove in silence, weaving through the cars abandoned on the roads leading into the wilderness of the desolate land, occasionally switching places to take the lead from one another, or making hand signals to one another to indicate a direction in which they were going. Although the roads were mostly clear at first, the more they went forward, the more the remnants of civilization began to appear. Everything was the same as the last time they'd been here.

The same cars were still stuck in an eternal traffic jam. The same zombies were still moving in them, moaning and struggling against their seatbelts in the same seats in which they'd died. The same crumbled buildings soon came within sight, with the same houses flattened by debris, with the same residential districts blackened to charcoal by uncontrollable fires.

It was familiar, morbidly, but comfortingly so. Bokuto knew this place. But the feeling he got from the empty, cracked pavements could only be described as uncanny.

And as familiar as his surroundings were, there would always be one thing more familiar above all. As if sensing that he was going through his friend's thoughts, Kuroo pulled up next to Bokuto, both of them locking their speed to drive adjacently for a little while.

There was a fork coming up in the road, and Bokuto was familiar with this part, too. Glancing over at Kuroo, he tried to imagine what his face looked like behind the helmet visor, but couldn't think of anything. He wondered if Kuroo, who was doing the same to him, could imagine the bittersweet smile on his face.

Who knows. The fork came up too quickly for him to think about it, and with a slight flick of his hand in his usual goodbye, Kuroo veered to the left to head off to another sector of the city.

Bokuto always hated the part where he'd nod to Kuroo, and keep going straight, alone. The road in front of him was still littered with the same cars, and the same landmarks greeted him like every time he came to this side of the city, but this part, right after splitting from his best friend, never felt the same.

He parked his bike on the elevated highway, on the inbound side to avoid close proximity with the cars jamming the outbound side, and began to walk. He was still on the outskirts of the city for now, mostly intent on clearing some suburban areas (that, and anybody in their right mind would refuse to go downtown on a solo assignment), so it didn't surprise him that he didn't see any zombies just yet. As he walked deeper into the neighbourhood he wanted to work on, he finally hopped over the barriers separating the two sides in order to take the ramp down to street level, and pulled his crowbar out in preparation.

Maybe it was his sensitive hearing that let him hear the moans like whispers on the wind. Maybe it was his ever-so-diligent gut feeling that warned him of their proximity. Maybe it was just his common sense dictating that he hadn't seen enough zombies yet for this expedition to be like the others. Whatever it was, it had him on his toes, so that the first zombie he came across, ambling down the streets aimlessly, had his heart racing in a second.

Twirling his crowbar in his hand to crack his wrist and give himself a boost of morale, he took a deep breath, and wordlessly began to run towards the ungodly creature.

The rotten being noted his approach a few seconds after he began to run, recognizing the click-clack of his footsteps as unusual. As soon as its melting eyes locked onto the sight of Bokuto's alluring presence, it opened its mouth and moaned, so loud that even hardened Bokuto winced. It didn't last long, however. As soon as he was close enough, Bokuto kicked the creature square in the chest with the sole of his combat boots, and as it hit the ground, he stabbed it through the eye socket with his crowbar. It stopped moving almost instantly, and Bokuto removed his weapon from its body with a gross squelch.

"One," he counted, and moved on.

Assignments like these were long and tedious, but boring. After some time, fearing for your life every second of the day lost its novelty, and Bokuto hated how mundane these situations had become. He felt like he'd let his guard down for a second, and that second would be all it took for him to lose everything.

He hated hunting solo.

"Fuck this," Bokuto sighed to himself, clipping his crowbar on a belt loop and pulling his handgun out of its holster instead. Instead of searching and destroying, the easiest and arguably safest method of extermination, he'd settle for a siege-type job this time. It'd take way less effort on his end, though it could get dangerous if he wasn't careful.

But since when wasn't he careful? Bokuto was the most careful person he knew.

He quickly spotted his safe zone, up on a balcony of an apartment building, one floor off the ground. It would be a quick scale for him, as the wall had many cracks and nooks he could use to pull himself up. Then, he'd just wait for the zombies in the neighbourhood to converge towards him, the noise attracting them like a domino effect. All Bokuto would have to do is cut them down as they desperately tried to reach him.

Now, all he had to do was find his first target. The streets were strangely devoid of life (loose sense of the term), so he peered around a couple of corners to try and catch sight of a target.

Nothing.

The dread in Bokuto's gut rose a notch. Something definitely wasn't right. And hell if he wasn't going to try and find out what that something was.

Proceeding through the streets, he tried to keep his breathing quiet, and listened for any tell-tale moans on the wind. And, just as quietly, he advanced, grip tight around his firearm. Not a single soul, damned or otherwise, roamed the streets. But the closer he listened, the more Bokuto seemed to hear something.

He let his ears guide him in a game of trial and error, and finally, when the moans became audible, he knew he'd found them.

What he did not expect, though, was the sheer size of the group he found when he stumbled around the corner where the groaning was loudest.

A quick estimation gave Bokuto about thirty zombies to take care of. That was a lot for one person at once, even for him, so he considered just turning back and leaving, and maybe trying to snipe a few of them from a nearby building.

However, he also stopped and retreated behind the wall once more to observe their bizarre behaviour, eyes flicking over the squirming mass clawing at the walls of an apartment building, as if trying to dig their way in. They'd obviously found something in that building, or had chased someone into the building, and still hadn't given up. Who knows how long they'd been there. Last time Bokuto came into this sector was a week ago, so for all he knew, these things had been scratching at the walls for days.

Still, not one to dismiss the occurrence immediately (neglect definitely wasn't how he'd become so good at his job!), he took the time to observe them a little more, paying close attention to details. From this distance, he couldn't really see the condition of their fingers, so he couldn't tell if they'd been scratching for a while. They were too close to one another for him to note any trampled bodies beneath their feet, too, but the noticeable lack of a fresh bloodstain anywhere near them was a good indicator that they hadn't ripped anybody apart right there just yet.

Still, the sounds they were making were deafening, and for so many of them to have converged towards one spot, there must have been a certain time lapse. They must have been there for at least a whole day.

Bokuto's gut suddenly wrenched with unease, and he didn't question it. He immediately turned around, his heart pounding harshly when he came face to face with a zombie that had been ambling towards the group by the apartment, and who had taken interest in him. Its arms were out, with its fingers grasping thin air in the hopes of grabbing flesh, and in a moment of panic, Bokuto clicked the safety off of his handgun and shot its brains at point-blank range.

The bang of the gun rang out, obvious even over the sound of the moans. Realizing his mistake a little too late, Bokuto swore and turned back to the crowd, which had predictably shifted its attention at the sudden noise. The young man held his breath.

Thankfully, only a few zombies left the group to investigate, probably catching a whiff of his scent on the wind. Bokuto backed up into the adjacent street again and holstered his gun, switching it for the more silent option of a crowbar to get the incoming masses.

The first zombie turned the corner and immediately spotted him, loudly groaning in anticipation. A few more followed behind it, joining in the chorus of morbid cries, and Bokuto wasted no more time, lest he attract the rest as well.

The first one went down with a well-aimed stab through the eye. Pulling out his crowbar now dripping with bodily fluids, Bokuto used the momentum to step back, and then charged at the next one, swinging his weapon at its head. The rotten bones gave in with a sickening crunch that even turned Bokuto's stomach upside down, and the zombie fell to the ground, groaning its last. Bokuto then busied himself with the next two monsters aiming for him, kicking the first one flat on the ground with a well-placed side-sweep of his leg. Whilst that one lamented its fate, he grabbed one of the outstretched arms of the zombie in front of him and immediately pulled it forward, sidestepping it as it lost its balance and stumbled. Too quick for it to retaliate, he brought the crowbar down on its head, once, twice, three times until it cracked, and Bokuto's weapon hit the soft organ beneath it. Dealing with the fourth one was a piece of cake, and for a second, Bokuto enjoyed flirting with danger and put his booted foot on its sternum, watching it grab his leg and claw at it frantically. His army-grade urban camouflage pants didn't give in, however, and Bokuto ended it all with a quick stab through its empty eye socket.

The wiggling arms released him, and Bokuto stepped off the zombie, flicking the rotten blood and spinal fluid off of his weapon irritably.

"Six," he counted to himself, and peered around the corner again. Most zombies were still there, still clawing at the building relentlessly, and yet this time, Bokuto saw what they saw.

It was brief, but Bokuto saw something move on one of the balconies on the third floor. His eyes narrowed as he tried to make the shape out, and though he could see nothing for the moment behind the barrier of the balcony, he patiently waited.

His waiting bore fruits when finally, after a while, a head peeked over the top of the barrier, glancing around. Bokuto quickly noted the person's light brown hair, dishevelled and greasy-looking, and the brown eyes darting around as if searching frantically for something. Or someone. The person must have heard the gunshot Bokuto had fired.

Probably a lost survivor unlucky enough to get stuck. And part of Bokuto's job as a part of the N.E.T. was to rescue survivors and ship them out to the safe zones, so he figured he may as well start thinking of a way to get the guy down.

However, the guy seemed to have different ideas. Especially when his brown eyes finally landed on him and recognized him as someone who wasn't dead. Bokuto expected many things to happen at the moment. Having the guy's previously dead gaze light up, though, was not one of those things.

"Hey!" the man cried out, standing up to full height all of a sudden, and waving at Bokuto with a wide grin. "Heyo, up here!"

Bokuto just looked at him incredulously, twice as incredulously when the zombies' cries twice as high at the sight of fresh prey.

"Don't say anything!" the man continued pleasantly, and if the bags under his eyes weren't obvious even from their distance, Bokuto would have guessed that the guy was either unaffected by all this, or was just crazy. "But if you can do me a favour, that'd be great. I just need to get down safely and I'll help you send these bastards to hell."

Bokuto looked at him for a second, and then made a shrugging motion to indicate that he had no clue whatsoever on how to do that. He was a front-liner; he didn't make plans, nor did he care much for them. He just rushed forward into battle when he told to, in all honestly. Plans were more Kuroo's thing.

"I heard you fire a shot earlier," the mystery man continued. "It's loud, but it'll do. So do it again, and don't worry about noise. I'll make sure I have all eyes on me," he finished with a cocky smirk, irking Bokuto with his attitude.

Still, he figured he'd follow the stranger's plan, and prepared his gun, making sure he was back against the wall to avoid surprises before aiming at a random head in the crowd.

Seeing him ready and on standby for his cue, the brown-haired stranger licked his dry lips, and climbed over the side of the barrier. Turning around, he held onto the top and carefully let his legs off the ledge, and then let go of his hold all at once. Bokuto found himself holding his breath anxiously as the stranger freefell slightly before his bare hands caught the edge of the balcony, balancing him a few feet above the lower balcony below. The strength it took him to hang on must've been great, and to do that kind of stupid stunt, someone would either have to be very well-trained, or a fucking idiot like Bokuto.

Speaking of whom, Bokuto began to believe that the man wasn't just a lost civilian, not when he swung himself down to the lower balcony, and waved cockily at the crowd of increasingly loud zombies. Now, only a single story separated the zombies from the other man.

Bokuto recognized his cue almost immediately as the zombies practically mowed one another down in their haste to get to their prey, which was conveniently getting closer to them.

He began to fire.

The shots rang out loudly, Bokuto's shoulder hitting the wall behind him painfully with each recoil. He didn't falter, however, and kept his aim steady, moving from one zombie to the other, and killing one more of the dreaded monsters before the last had a chance to crumple to the ground.

In the meantime, the man seemed to be advertising himself to the zombies, climbing over the second balcony railing, and repeating the manoeuvre from before to drop one more time to the lowest balcony. His waist was now at eye-level with the screeching of the creatures putting their arms through the railing for a shot at reeling them in, and yet the man fearlessly got closer, until he was just out of reach.

His parading gave Bokuto the chance to reload his gun twice, and by the time there were only a few zombies left, he figured he could stop shooting. Instead pulling out his crowbar, he charged the enemy just as they began to realize that there was another prey behind them. Too little too late, two of them already fell to his violent clubbing before they could act, and the three remaining ones took their sweet time turning to him.

As Bokuto engaged one of them, watching the other two carefully, he saw the other man vault off the balcony to the ground and grab what looked like a baseball bat off the grass, where it seemed to have fallen. His gaze went back to his own enemy, unconcerned with the two others, especially when the sound of a blunt object violently bashing into bones announced their gruesome fate.

The two last zombies fell with ease, and this left the two humans panting in exertion, covered in blood, dirt, and rotting bits of organs, but alive and victorious.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," the other man hummed, walking back to the mass of zombies now lying in a silent pile on the ground.

"If it wasn't that bad, how come you hadn't taken them beforehand?" Bokuto teased, cleaning his weapon on one of the zombies' ripped clothing.

"Cause I dropped my weapon while climbing to get away from them!" the man protested childishly, pushing some corpses out of the way with his foot, seemingly searching for something.

"And you've made it this far with clumsiness like that?" Bokuto laughed, approaching him slowly. "Man, lend me some of that dumb luck!"

"I wasn't expecting this, is all," the brunet huffed indignantly, pushing aside another corpse before glaring at Bokuto. "I'm extremely capable of taking care of myself, I'll have you know. In fact, I-"

He never finished. Instead, he cut himself off with a scream when a rotten hand shot out from under the pile of corpses and grabbed his ankle, pulling. The brunet tripped under the sheer force of the zombie's grip and fell back on the mound of bodies, but thankfully, the zombie's face was buried under too many corpses for it to be able to bite him before Bokuto got to it, stabbing his crowbar down where he figured its head would be until the hand released hid companion.

They stood in silence for a second to let the brunet catch his breath after the scare, and then Bokuto offered him his hand to help him stand.

"So what was that about being capable?" he grinned his favourite shit-eating grin, chuckling when the stranger slapped his hand away with a huff.

"It's your fault! You jinxed me when you tried to steal my luck!" he pouted, glancing suspiciously at the mound of corpses again before continuing his search.

"Sure, blame it on your handsome saviour, why don't you?" Bokuto rolled his eyes, extending his hand towards the brunet. "Whose equally handsome name, by the way, is Bokuto Koutarou."

"Nice to meet you, Bokuto-kun," the brunet challenged playfully, grasping his hand firmly for a handshake. "Since I'm such a charming guy, I won't disillusion you. But anyway, my name is Oikawa Tooru."

"Awesome," Bokuto grinned, not really getting the subtle shade being thrown at him. "So, Oikawa. What are you looking for? I thought you already picked up your weapon."

"This thing?" Oikawa asked, twirling the aluminium baseball bat with a flick of his wrist. "No, this thing is just something I picked up on the road. My actual weapon is buried somewhere here..." he trailed off, now digging through the corpses with his hands, and finally grabbed something. "Ah, here it is!"

And okay, maybe Bokuto's jaw did drop when the other man retrieved his weapon from under the bodies, its size and shape recognizable to anybody with even a slightly trained eye.

"Ah, I missed you, baby," Oikawa sing-sang, running a hand over the blood splattered body of the sniper rifle he held before blowing it a kiss.

"You're a sniper," Bokuto whispered, more like a statement than a question.

"Yup! And only the best," Oikawa gave him a thumbs-up with an irritating smirk plastered on his face. This Oikawa person was too cheerful for this kind of place, Bokuto thought, but then again, their current sniper, Kageyama, was the exact opposite, the doom-and-gloom kind all day long.

"Our sniper's pretty good, too," he commented offhandedly, thinking of the way the young man would dispatch large hordes before they could even reach the fence around their warehouse.

"I bet you I'm much better, though," Oikawa insisted, and swung the strap of his sniper rifle around him. "So. What division of the N.E.T. are you?"

"Division Sigma-6!" Bokuto announced proudly. "We're located about a half hour ride from here."

"Ah, fun," the brunet nodded. "And are we returning to the headquarters now?"

"I suppose I can drive you there, but then I gotta come back because I haven't filled my assignment's quota yet. Though this encounter really did help. I must have gotten at least thirty of them!"

"Probably," Oikawa shrugged. "But anyway. I'll stick with you for a little while. I'll help you fill your quota for today, even. How many did you have?"

"Sixty."

"Damn!" the brunet looked genuinely surprised. "Are you a front-liner?"

"Yup! How'd you tell?" Bokuto grinned, flexing his biceps cockily. "The sight of my guns impressive to ya?"

Strangely enough, the smile on Oikawa's face seemed to waver slightly at the comment. But Bokuto felt like perhaps he'd imagined it, seeing as Oikawa was waving him off a second later.

"Nah, I've seen better," he chuckled, his tone a bit more subdued, before he turned around. "Anyway. We should get going. You've got some good progress done, but you're only halfway there."

"I have like, four more hours to kill thirty zombies," Bokuto snorted. "I'll be fine."

Checking the amount of ammo left in his clip, he clicked it back into place and then stowed his handgun, opting to walk around with his crowbar in hand instead.

Being with someone else, no matter how strange the guy was, was comforting. And best of all, the weird feeling in Bokuto's gut had vanished. Perhaps this fated encounter was what had made him so uneasy.

Now that the apprehension had passed, Bokuto felt like he had clear skies ahead.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

He never should have let his guard down. Doing so would get him killed, and that was the very first lesson he learned in this damned world of theirs. And here he was, repeating the same mistake.

There was a slight ringing in his ears as he recovered from the news broadcasted through the walkie-talkie he carried at his waist.

"Are you gonna answer it?" Oikawa asked him, eyes hard and cracked lips turned down into a frown. "Can we get there on time?"

"We have to!" Bokuto protested. "We can't leave him!"

"Well, maybe you should tell him that instead of me," Oikawa suggested, looking at him weird, but falling into step immediately as Bokuto turned tail and began to jog.

"This is Bokuto. I'll answer his call. I'm on my way!" Bokuto bit out into the walkie-talkie, gritting his teeth. "Don't worry, ETA 20 minutes!"

"You're 30 minutes away from me, though!" the other voice crackled, full of static. Even over the radio, Bokuto could hear the horrifying screeches of the undead giving chase, and he shivered.

"Twenty minutes!" he repeated nonetheless, accelerating into a sprint that Oikawa followed easily. "We're coming!"

"We!?"

"Long story! Save your breath and run. And find a place to hide and bandage yourself up, if you can!" Bokuto ordered, clipping the walkie-talkie back on his belt.

"What exactly did this guy do?" Oikawa asked, concerned with Bokuto's worry.

"He was ambushed and had to jump out of a building. Twisted his ankle on the landing. He needs an evac," Bokuto explained the message he'd heard over the radio, and his fists tightened. On impulse, he grabbed the radio again, and forcefully pushed the button.

It couldn't end here.

"Hang on tight, Kuroo. We're on our way!"

And when Bokuto Koutarou made promises, hell would have to drag him to its deepest circles before he broke them.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

When they reached the dirt bike parked on the raised highway, Bokuto quickly slammed the keys into the ignition, and threw the helmet to Oikawa.

"Hurry!" he rushed him in such seriousness that the brunet had trouble believing that this was the same guy who'd saved him earlier. He caught the helmet and seemed like he wanted to object, but if he spent a second too long idling, he felt like he'd be left behind. So he shut his pretty little mouth and threw the helmet on, jumping onto the back of the dirt bike and winding his arms around Bokuto right as he took off with a jump start.

Bokuto hurried, pushing his bike to the limit. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he took a second longer than he could afford. He couldn't imagine what would happen to Kuroo if he was too late. That just wasn't an option. He revved the bike up to 160 km/h, the wind nipping at his exposed face, freezing his skin until his lips were all but blue.

"Bokuto, slow down!" Oikawa protested fearfully, his hands tight on his shirt. If they crashed at this speed, they'd both be instant goners, helmet or not. But still, Bokuto couldn't bring himself to slow down. Not now.

He did, however, slow down a bit when the fork in the road came up, and braked abruptly, drawing a high-pitched squeal from Oikawa as the bike skidded across the asphalt road before taking back off as quickly as before.

"If I die here, this will be the epitome of my bad life choices," Oikawa whined in his ear, leaning onto Bokuto. "This is the last time I let you drive me places. I want to get on with this Kuroo person on our way back!"

Because they'd bring Kuroo back. Bokuto liked the sound of that. So he smirked.

"As you wish, princess. Kuroo's not any less rough-and-tumble than me, however."

"Urgh, I can't believe I'm stuck with brutes like you!" Oikawa huffed, but said nothing else. Either way, zooming around the occasional car or ambling undead took all of Bokuto's concentration, so he was grateful that Oikawa stopped talking after a while.

Finally, Bokuto spotted Kuroo's dirt bike in the distance, and he brought his own bike into a rapid halt, almost ejecting Oikawa from his seat.

"Talk about an uncomfortable ride," the latter whined, removing the helmet and flipping his dirty hair. However, recognizing the urgency in Bokuto's movements, he quickly dropped the helmet by the bike and followed him into a jog.

"Kuroo," Bokuto called into the walkie-talkie. "We're close to you. Give me your exact location."

They waited for a few agonizing seconds where there was no reply on the other end. And for a moment, Bokuto almost believed that his best friend had kicked the bucket. Almost.

"Spot the burnt-out neon sign to the right of the highway ramp. To the right of that street are a bunch of residential houses. I'm at the fourth one," Kuroo finally reported, the screeching of zombies almost drowning out his voice.

"On our way," Bokuto assured him again, just for the hell of it, and tried to spot the neon sign Kuroo was referring to.

"There!" Oikawa immediately spotted it, taking the lead towards it. Bokuto thanked the fact that he wasn't alone in this, too. Experienced/lucky civilian or not, Oikawa had been of great help to him.

Noise began to rise in the air, familiar and bone-chillingly loud. But neither of them stopped. They reached the sign and immediately turned right, only then faltering back out of sight because holy shit-

"That's a fuckton of zombies," Bokuto paled, finally feeling stress pool into his stomach. "Shit. Shit, they're surrounding him. At least fifty of them."

"I see him," Oikawa confirmed, squinting with his freaky sniper's vision and nodding. "He's climbed up against the door of one of the houses. Zombies can't climb stairs, but at the number they are, it won't be long until they trample one another and make a ramp up to get him."

"Shit," Bokuto swore again. "We need a plan."

"Hmm..." Oikawa bit his lip, looking around quickly, his brain whirring as he tried to come up with something, anything that could save them. Bokuto looked at him anxiously, not liking the way his eyebrows furrowed.

Finally, his brown eyes lit up, and something swelled in Bokuto's heart.

"You've got something," he remarked hopefully.

"We won't fight," Oikawa confirmed. "We'll just need to grab Kuroo and get the fuck out of here, and cut off their pursuit route so that we can avoid the risk of being caught up with."

"Do you know how?" Bokuto asked, all ears. Like he'd noted before, he sucked at plans... but he was okay at jumping in head-first when he was told to do so.

"The house two from this one, on the left side of the street, has a small backyard limited off with a fence. Our goal is gonna be to escape into the backyard and close the fence up, just to told the zombies back until we get a head start. It won't hold them indefinitely, but even if they tear it down, we'll be long gone."

"How do we get there?"

"The rooftops," Oikawa pointed up at the roofs. "The houses here are pretty tight, so jumping from one roof to another will be easy. Of course, with Kuroo's ankle, it might be a problem, but do your best. You climb the houses on the right, and make your way to Kuroo. Help him up to the roofs, get down into someone's driveway or front lawn, and make a dash for the house with the fence."

"And you?" Bokuto asked.

"I'll climb the houses on the left and go secure our evac point," he finished. "Sounds good?"

"Perfect," Bokuto nodded, feeling his heart flutter. It was a pretty good plan, considering. "Let's do it."

"Go," Oikawa nodded in all seriousness, and they broke to dash to the opposite sides of the street.

Bokuto immediately bounded up the steps of the first house, ignoring the zombies that saw him and began to follow him, and climbed on a windowsill. Pulling himself up, he stepped onto the awning on top of the front door, and jumped to grab the next windowsill. With some effort, he pulled himself up, and put his feet against the brick wall to give him a boost towards the roof. He grabbed the edge, and pulled himself up, giving himself just a moment of rest before heading off again.

"Bro, nice parkour skills," Kuroo's crackling voice came over the radio, almost unheard over the screeching of the zombies wriggling at his literal doorstep.

Bokuto only smirked, not taking the time to answer him, and instead concentrated on jumping the gap between the first two houses.

On the other side, Oikawa was doing the same, though Bokuto noticed that he was pushing himself low and moving in a crouch, exactly as a stealth agent would. He had more important things to do, though, namely, clearing the three other gaps, until he landed on the roof of the house besieged by the zombies.

"Kuroo!" he called down, glancing worriedly at his friend, who looked right back up at him. There was a bleeding cut on his forehead that dripped blood in his eyes, and which would probably need stitches once they got back to the warehouse, and he was visibly putting his weight on his left leg instead of his right.

"I fucked up!" the black-haired male cackled as if this whole thing was hilarious. "But I can relax now that my white knight on his steed has come for me."

"Get your ass up here, it ain't over 'till we get the fuck out of here in one piece!" Bokuto crowed back at him, lowering himself to the first windowsill and finding purchase on some protruding bricks to help Kuroo out.

"Thanks, Prince-Fucking-Charming," Kuroo rolled his eyes, wincing slightly when he turned to the house, and grabbed a few bricks to start climbing.

He obviously tried not to put any weight on his sprained ankle, but Bokuto heard the occasional whimper escaping his gritted teeth. The zombies were now almost at the landing, the huge, wriggling mass of corpses howling their rotten lungs out as they watched them escape. The boys tried not to think of it, and when Kuroo was high enough, Bokuto extended a hand to help pull him up.

"Thanks," Kuroo breathed heavily as they both made it onto the roof, gingerly rotating his ankle. "Shit, that hurts."

"It's not broken, is it?" Bokuto asked worriedly.

"Nah. Just a particularly annoying sprain. I can't believe I made such a dumb mistake," Kuroo shook his head, and then straightened. "Let's get going. What's the plan?"

"We go two houses down, climb down to the ground, and dash across the street to the house with the fence over there," Bokuto quickly explained.

"Did you come up with that?" Kuroo teased him as they both took a running start and jumped towards the adjacent house. They reached the edge of the roof and clung onto it, pulling themselves up, with Kuroo pointedly avoiding the use of his injured leg as much as possible.

"Nah, some guy I met and who's with me right now did," Bokuto admitted, checking that Kuroo was okay before they got ready to clear the next gap.

"Who is he? Where'd you pick him up? What happened?" Kuroo asked, catching his breath before following his best friend into the next jump. They landed at waist-level with the roof a bit painfully, but pulled themselves up once again.

"It's been a long day without you, my friend," Bokuto chuckled, and began to climb down on the front door's face of the house. "I'll tell you all about it. Now come on!"

He dropped the last few feet, unclipping his crowbar from his belt, and rushing down the steps to handle the few zombies that had followed them, and that were now in their path. Behind him, he heard Kuroo drop as well with a hiss of pain, and limp down the stairs until they were side by side.

"Fight or flight?" Kuroo asked, using his own crowbar to stab a zombie that had ambled too close for comfort.

"Flight!" Bokuto immediately replied, slamming his crowbar into a zombie and sending it crashing to the ground. It kept moaning, but Bokuto was well past his quota now, and he just wanted to go home. "Now!"

Kuroo immediately abandoned the zombie he'd engaged in combat and fell in step seamlessly with Bokuto. Periodically, he glanced back at the zombies that were hot on their tail, and glanced at the mass now advancing towards them, seeing as their prey had fleed.

Shit. They were screwed.

Until they weren't anymore.

The faded sound of a gunshot rang out, and the zombie closest to Kuroo fell. Soon, another zombie chasing them fell, and Kuroo's eyes widened.

"You picked up a sniper!?" he gaped. "Damn!"

"Apparently, he says he's good. As long as he can keep us clear 'till we climb over the fence, I'll consider him good," Bokuto panted, using the last bit of his dashing momentum to throw himself at the chain-link fence that had a heavy lock keeping it closed. Climbing it was easy, except for the last bits at the top, but for Kuroo, the delicate operation was different.

"Fuck," the black-haired male swore, dropping back down after his first attempt, biting his lip in pain. "Sorry, I'll try again!"

"Hurry!" Bokuto pressed him, climbing back up on the opposite side to try and help pull him up again.

"Fuck!" Kuroo cried out, face contorted in pain as he compelled the adrenaline coursing through his veins to make him forget the pain. The zombies were now very close, almost within arm's length of Kuroo, and Bokuto's heart stopped for a second.

The zombie's fingers brushed the small of Kuroo's back, and then, it was on the ground.

The next one was on the ground. And the next one. And the next one.

The two Sigma-6 agents were frozen on the spot in wonder, almost unable to tear their eyes away from the sight in front of them. The zombies were falling under rapid firing from above, one dead before the zombie before it could even hit the ground. The reloading speed and aiming precision of the sniper above was inhumane, and for a moment, Bokuto wondered if Oikawa had made some allies up on the roof.

There was no way that just one person was tearing through the advancing wall of zombies like a hot knife through butter.

"Shit, we'll be impressed later, when we're still alive to do it!" Kuroo was the one who snapped him out of it, and Bokuto doubled in effort trying to pull him up.

Finding strength in the insurance that someone had his back, Kuroo devoted all of his energy to climbing over the fence, and when he finally succeeded, he dropped onto the other side, breathless.

"Oikawa, come down here!" Bokuto cried out loudly. "We're good to go!"

A few shots later, the zombies stopped falling, and though they tripped over the numerous dead bodies at their feet, many of them made it to the fence, and stuck their rotten fingers through the links greedily. Bokuto refused to look into their soulless eyes and instead helped Kuroo to his feet, slinging his arm around his neck to support him.

Soon enough, the brunet on the rooftop climbed down the side of the house to meet them, and in utmost seriousness, pointed them to the back.

"The back gate isn't locked and leads into an alley. The alley will take us back to the main street, and since all the zombies are here, we should have a clear course to the highway ramp," he reported.

"Hot damn, you're good," Kuroo whistled appreciatively, limping as quickly as he could once they fell into a quick walk.

"Thanks. I am the best at what I do, after all," the brunet's expression melted into something more easy-going, but cocky.

"Kuroo, this is Oikawa. Oikawa, this is Kuroo," Bokuto presented them to one another proudly.

"Well, Oikawa, if we make it through this, I think I'll owe you a cup of tea for helping Bokuto save my ass. God knows he wouldn't have been able to think things through by himself," Kuroo snickered at Bokuto's low protest.

"It's fine. I'm not that much into dirtying my nails fighting in close combat, so if it wasn't for him, I'd still be hollering at you from the other side of the street," Oikawa hummed pleasantly, leading them off.

"You weren't bitten or scratched, right, Kuroo?" Bokuto asked in sudden concern, having forgotted how close his friend had been to being a goner.

"Nah, they didn't touch me. I'm fine," Kuroo assured him with a shaky grin, shaky because though he'd lived through another day, he'd probably lose tons of sleep tonight and wake up gasping for air tomorrow morning, and they both knew it. But that was the life they lived, unfortunately.

"Alright, then. Save your breath and let's get out of here," Bokuto sighed out in relief, and grinned at his two companions. Together, they made their way safely up the ramp to the highway, and onto the inbound side where both dirt bikes were parked, and that was when Bokuto knew that the rest of today would be a good day.

As promised, Oikawa asked to get on with Kuroo, making the latter laugh at the anecdote of why he absolutely refused to ride with Bokuto from now on. But Bokuto knew that his best friend was laughing because he'd been scared, and because he was grateful. At the end of the day, fear and relief really were the only two emotions they were condemned to feel until they died.

The three of them took off towards the setting sun, dirty and bloody and really fucking exhausted, but alive. Alive, and still kickin' well enough to go at it another day.

"I hope we make it in time for dinner," Bokuto mumbled to himself, the roaring wind drowning out his own mumbles in his ears. Still, Kuroo was riding side by side with him, and since he'd given his helmet to Oikawa, Bokuto could finally see the serene expression plastered across his face, as if driving and letting the wind sweep his worries right out of his pores was some sort of great catharsis.

Bokuto liked seeing the peace on Kuroo's face. He wondered if he'd always looked this wistful behind his visor. As if reading his thoughts, Kuroo turned his gaze to him, and grinned, loud and bright, and everything Bokuto loved best about his best friend.

Bokuto grinned back, even though Kuroo couldn't see him, and then turned his attention to the road. His tummy gurgled in anticipation of arrival.

"I wonder what we're having tonight," he hummed to himself, because now that he was still alive, entertaining himself with petty concerns was the easiest way to forget that he'd almost died again today.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

They reached the warehouse by 1730 hours, to Bokuto's absolute delight, and immediately headed to see Daichi with Oikawa in tow. The evening had rolled into the warehouse already, most people having returned from their assignments and now idling until dinner, and the boys had to wave off a few concerned glances on their way to Daichi's office.

Their dispatch agent didn't actually have an office, per se. His desk was in a corner of the report and archive room, just to give him a small workspace to organize his daily activities. Bokuto had never understood why Daichi hadn't been given his own room like their base commander and supervisor duo, two middle-aged men who spent less time in the base they were assigned to command, and more time with their families in the safe zones. Daichi showed his face to them more often than their higher-ups, so he deserved his own office, too.

But anyway. Like everything else concerning their circumstances, they just made due with what they had.

They didn't knock before entering, just because the report room was free of access, and walked into the room lined with bookcases.

Bokuto, who was not even into books, always admitted that this room was pretty cool nonetheless. There were many sections to the bookcases, and large black binders were arranged on them, each binder with an agent's name printed on its spine. The bookcase closest to the entrance was the active bookcase, and there were only a dozen binders lining it, as many agents as they had on base at the moment. Bokuto found that a bit sad. But nothing would rival the uncomfortable feeling of looking past the active bookcase to see the two full bookcases in the back, each name on each binder on those shelves crossed off in red marker.

The initiative had only been active for six months, and already, so many young people had perished. Bokuto wondered if the other divisions, with older agents, had as many casualties. Or if it was a curse of the young ones.

"Bokuto," Kuroo called to snap him out of his thoughts. "Report first, or Daichi first?"

"Let's drop Oikawa off first," Bokuto suggested, leading them towards the desk in the back.

Predictably, Daichi was there. Unpredictably, Daichi had his head down on the table, asleep.

"Ohoho?" Bokuto cackled, eyes glinting in the neon lighting of the room.

"Ohoho!" Kuroo echoed, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"What the fuck?" Oikawa looked at them as if trying to understand, but let it go without another comment when Kuroo approached Daichi and gently touched his shoulder.

It felt like an odd move for someone like Kuroo. Oikawa hadn't known him long, but he seemed like the type of person who'd dump a bucket of water on sleeping people. Still, he figured it might've been one of the guy's good deeds of the day, because Daichi tensed at the contact, and then woke up without a fuss.

"Ah, Kuroo..." he began, glancing behind him wearily. "Bokuto... you're back."

"Yup! With full quotas, too!" Bokuto proudly added.

"Did everything go alright? You seem a bit roughed up, Kuroo," their dispatch agent remarked, glancing at Kuroo's visible injuries.

"I fucked up some, but at least Bokuto was there to clean up my mess," Kuroo explained.

"And me!" Oikawa protested indignantly. "It was my plan that saved your butt!"

"And who are you?" Daichi leaned over to get a good look at him, hiding behind Bokuto, and looked him up and down.

"Oh, he's just a civvie we picked up-" Bokuto began, but Oikawa spoke over him loudly.

"The name's Oikawa Tooru!" he introduced himself. "I'm sure you've been expecting me."

"Huh?" Kuroo and Bokuto echoed in confusion, looking at one another, and then at the beaming brunet.

"Well, it's true that we were expecting you," Daichi began with a sigh. "But that was two days ago. When you didn't arrive, we figured you'd died on the way here."

"I got... caught up, let's say."

"Who's this 'we'? I didn't know we were expecting anyone new!" Bokuto raised an eyebrow.

"The higher-ups know these things and let me know so I can prepare. I have no obligation to tell you, though," Daichi frowned. "Anyway. You're late, but you're here, and I guess that's what matters. Welcome to Sendai, Oikawa."

"Thanks!"

"Wait, so you're not a very talented civilian?" Bokuto asked incredulously.

"No," Oikawa laughed. "I can't believe you'd think of me as a civvie."

"Well, you never said anything!"

"You never asked."

"Anyway," Daichi cleared his throat. "I'll let the administration know you've arrived. You can go see one of the groundskeepers for your bunk assignment, as well as to get your starter packet. I think Asahi is not on kitchen duty today, so you can find him doing repairs, most probably. Then, you can get settled until dinner at 1800 hours."

"Okie doke!"

"As for you two, write your mission report, and then maybe you should go see a medic, Kuroo," Daichi suggested.

"I'll do that," Kuroo smirked.

"Alright, good job today. Get some rest," Daichi dismissed them, probably to take his own advice. He looked tired. Everyone did.

"Hmm, I need a shower," Oikawa whined as they headed back where they came from, to the bookcase with the active agents' names on them. Kuroo and Bokuto each picked out their name from the row of binders and flipped to the most recent page to start documenting.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were our new sniper," Bokuto whined in response, his rapid writing like chicken scratch on the page.

"Didn't it strike you as weird that a civvie could be so good at urban survival and shooting?"

"I was sure you'd taken some classes, or learned on the run," Bokuto answered, thinking for a bit about what he wanted to write before continuing.

"No way! I spent four long years training at my outpost, and I was the best!"

"You might wanna tone down that modesty, Oikawa," Kuroo commented offhandedly. "People might think you don't appreciate yourself enough."

"It's true!" Oikawa gasped in mock-outrage. "Don't doubt me! I was captain of my strike team, and in a place as tough as Aoba Johsai, that means that I must have been really good!"

"Or just impossibly lucky," Bokuto smirked.

"Or a rich kid," Kuroo mirrored the smirk, and the two of them almost eerily in tandem turned to grin at Oikawa's exasperation.

"Can you even pretend to be impressed or do you just not feel like it? Or are you always like this?" Oikawa puffed out his cheeks rather childishly.

"We would've been impressed... but we both come from powerhouse outposts as well," Kuroo hummed, signing off his report and snapping his binder shut.

"You are?" Oikawa's eyes glinted with newfound interest. "Which ones? There aren't many outposts that can call themselves powerhouses these days."

To his utmost shock and perhaps horror, Bokuto and Kuroo simultaneously moved to strike a pose.

"Wha-"

"I'm Bokuto Koutarou, 20 years old, and I'm a front-liner with 4 years of training at Fukurodani! My talents include unarmed combat and blunt weapons!" the white-haired boy re-introduced himself dramatically, flicking his hair back.

"And I'm Kuroo Tetsurou, 20 years old, and I'm a minuteman with 3 years of training at Nekoma. My talents include urban parkour, strategic leadership, and sharp weaponry combat," Kuroo grinned.

"Well I'm Oikawa Tooru, 20, and I'm a sniper –the best- with 4 years at Aoba Johsai. My talents include long-range precision shots and mid-range rapid fire," Oikawa added in, eager to parade a little bit.

"And I'm Daichi Sawamura," Daichi's annoyed voice came from the back suddenly. "19, minuteman with 3 years at Karasuno and appointed Sendai's dispatch agent. My talents include front-line leadership and blunt weapons, and also beheading annoying show-offs who won't let me sleep when I'm exhausted!"

"Fight or flight, Bokuto?" Kuroo gave a self-satisfied grin.

"Flight!" Bokuto laughed, and both of them shelved their binders in a flash, running out without further ado.

Oikawa quickly followed their example, not because he wanted to stick with them, but because this Daichi person sounded scary when he was pissed.

He felt like it wouldn't be so bad around here.

(Of course, if you forgot that they were fighting a war that they were too young to die in).

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

Getting used to life in the warehouse didn't seem like it'd be much of a task, especially not for a social butterfly like Oikawa. At least, it didn't seem like it would be when the quiet groundskeeper –Asahi Azumane, 20, 3 years in Karasuno- explained to him how their routine worked and gave him a brief tour of the place that would be his home until he either got transferred or won the war.

(Or died. But he didn't like to consider the possibility of defeat. It left a sour taste on his tongue).

Basically, if he understood right, every morning around 0730 hours, their rationed breakfast would be served. Then, at 0800, that Daichi guy that everyone seemed to respect and fear at once gave the morning report, which they called the dispatch, and then hung up the assignment list on the common room billboard for all to see.

All he'd have to do is check if he was assigned to training, or an expedition. If he was assigned to training, he'd have the choice to train in whatever he wanted, as long as he remained within the premises of the warehouse. If he was assigned to an expedition, which he'd have until dusk to complete, he'd also find on the sheet the sector of the city where he'd have to go, and the approximate quota of zombies he'd have to kill.

Then, dinner would be served around 1800 hours, and after that, they'd pull the curtains around all the windows to prevent being spotted from the outside, they'd dim the lights, and they'd be free to vacate to their leisure until curfew, at 2300 hours.

It didn't sound so bad. At his training outpost, Aoba Johsai –Seijoh for short-, their routine had been much more strict, and much more tedious. They'd been pushed to the edge in preparation for the day that they'd be sent into service in a division. In retrospect, perhaps it was a good thing that Oikawa had gone through such rigorous training; if he hadn't been so prepared, he'd probably never have been able to outlast the two-day siege on the balcony of that apartment building. Still, it felt like he was overqualified to be in Sigma-6. The guys here didn't impress much when it came to action, so far.

But they were friendly. They laughed and shared stories and experiences over dinner, gave their unfinished meals to one another, switched chores and did favours for one another. They were energetic, as if refusing to let the circumstances bring them down, as if the entirety of Sigma-6 would crumble if even one of them lost hope.

(It probably would).

He turned around in his bed, facing a set of unoccupied bunks, and tried to make himself comfortable in this new environment. Oikawa hadn't met many agents yet, mostly because not everybody ate dinner in the common room, but he'd be able to meet more people at tomorrow's dispatch. His very first amongst these familiar strangers. The people who would have to be his coworkers, his friends, his family, his lifeline. He would have to place his trust in them and believe that they would watch his back like he watched theirs. Just like he used to do in practice missions in Seijoh with his old friends.

He briefly wondered how they were doing, and almost instinctively, Oikawa's hand closed onto a piece of paper that he'd set under his pillow. It was the first thing he'd done upon receiving his bunk assignment, because moving in without moving his best friend in with him just didn't feel right.

The lights were all shut, as well as the curtains, and so Oikawa did not see the picture he pulled out and set in front of his eyes. But he didn't need to see it to picture it exactly in his mind, from the faded look of the crumpled photograph to the strand of hair that was misplaced on the head of the young man smiling fondly at the cameraman.

Oikawa suppressed a genuine laugh, because he'd always remember how getting Iwaizumi to do one of his exasperated smiles was one of the most satisfying things on the planet.

Somewhere in the darkness, somebody snored loudly, and the brunet tensed reflexively. It was probably just Bokuto. Still, after Oikawa's heart settled, he smiled at the picture again, wistfully this time, and set it down against his chest, against his heart that was slowing back down gradually. He felt his own pulse through his fingers, and wondered if Iwaizumi would be able to feel it, too, from wherever he now was.

"It's been a long day without you, my friend," he whispered softly, and then slid the small picture back under his pillow, to protect him from nightmares like Iwaizumi had once protected him from bullies, and then the undead. "But I'll tell you all about it when I see you again."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

 **So in this AU, zombies have existed for a while, and so humanity has had time to organize against them. In their country (unspecified if real or fictional), the National Extermination Team (N.E.T.) is the cornerstone of warfare against zombies. People can be drafted if they meet certain requirements, or they can volunteer if they don't meet drafting requirements. Either way, once they are accepted, they do a year of boot camp and basic training in military bases (names of middle schools like Kitagawa Daiichi) and then are transferred to outposts, which are training facilities located in the heart of infected zones and where people can get either 3 or 4 years of practical and specialized training in zombie warfare (high school names like Karasuno). Once people graduate, they are assigned to a base (like Sendai) where they go to participate in eradication efforts. Divisions of the N.E.T. are based on age. Division Sigma is the youngest, 18 to 21 years old. There are many other divisions, up to age 50. Divisions also have sub-divisions, which are numbered, so that many small pockets of resistance can be spread across the country rather than have them all in one place.**

 **Agents can specialize in one of seven positions: front-liner, sniper, minuteman, groundskeeper, medic, scout or researcher. Depending on what they pick, their skills and training change, and they bring a different contribution to the team. I'll clarify more on these positions in the next chapters. I also know that the layout of the warehouse is a bit unclear, so I sketched out some (pretty ugly) representations that I posted on the AO3 version of this fic, if you wanna go see.**

 **I also haven't decided on pairings yet. I wanna think (write) outside the box this time, so I'm trying to think of uncommon pairings. Help me out by suggesting the pairing you want?**

 **Otherwise, hope you enjoyed the beginning of this fic, and hope you'll keep following. Man, now I wanna roleplay Haikyuu!. Does anybody even roleplay anymore tho?**


	2. What's Small Turn to a Friendship

**Author's Note**

 **I always do this, post two chapters in quick succession and then wait for the next one. I'm gonna work on CML, too, and hopefully sneak in an update.**

 **Please enjoy chapter two, which is actually the end of the story's introduction, hooray.**

* * *

"Oikawa... Hey, Oikawa!"

Oikawa wasn't sure what was the source of the nagging voice ringing in his ears, but he figured that if he ignored it, it would go away.

"Oiiiiiiiikawa... wake up!"

"Try shaking him, Bokuto."

Almost immediately, there was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He grunted and turned around, away from the voice and hands assaulting him.

"Oh, come on!"

"Try tickling him," the second voice piped in, and through the escaping tendrils of sleep in his mind, he recognized it as Kuroo's.

Oh hell no. He didn't guarantee their safety if they tickled him. In some dire circumstances, he wasn't the master of his own limbs, and this would be one of them.

"Don't you dare," he hissed sleepily, turning back around to crack his eyes open in a glare towards the two people crouched by his bedside, observing him.

"Oh my god, he is ticklish after all," Kuroo hummed, a devious smirk dawning on his face.

"Urgh," Oikawa sighed, giving up. He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. "Kuroo, Bokuto... why are you here?"

"We're doing you a favour, Oikawa. If we get down to breakfast soon, we'll be able to get warm toast. Warm toast, Oikawa. Also, yesterday, the pot of peanut butter was almost empty, and there is no way I'm going to miss out on a chance to get some before it's gone," Bokuto explained passionately.

"I need beauty sleep more than peanut butter, Bokuto," Oikawa sighed, but threw his covers off anyway. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep after this, for sure, and the idea of warm breakfast sounded kind of appealing after all. "But fine, lead the way."

"Alright!" the white-haired man cheered, bounding up. "Stick with us, pretty boy, and you'll get all these awesome life hacks in no time!"

"I'm coming," Oikawa nodded, letting Kuroo head away as well before getting out of bed and pulling on his blue slippers.

The three of them headed down the row of bunk beds whose inhabitants were just waking up, or were still fast asleep. A couple of them smiled to Oikawa, or threw him questioning looks, and he just smiled back nonetheless, figuring he'd introduce himself at dispatch.

They stopped at the fireman pole, and as Bokuto grabbed it and wound his legs around it, Oikawa noted his multicoloured owl-print pyjama pants.

"Um, Bokuto," he deadpanned. "What the hell are those pants?"

"Oh, these?" Bokuto hummed thoughtfully, looking at his beloved pyjamas. "It's fashion." He glanced back up at Oikawa in all of his rugged morning glory, black sweatpants hanging low on his hips and white tank top rolled up to reveal his navel, and smirked. "You wouldn't understand."

And he loosened his grip to zoom down towards the ground, leaving behind a cackling Kuroo and an affronted-looking Oikawa.

"Bitch won't say it to my face!" Oikawa screeched, actually offended by the comment, and then turned to glare daggers at Kuroo, who was still snickering. "And you, stop snickering!"

"No way. You're fun to rile up," the black-haired boy hummed, and took the pole to follow Bokuto's example. "Don't take too long getting down here. Every wasted second could mean cold toast for you."

Oikawa's dirty glare followed him all the way down to the ground floor.

Finally, Oikawa grabbed the pole, glancing down. The drop was pretty high up, but Oikawa was a sniper, and heights didn't bother him so much. Still, as he loosened his grip to let himself slide down, his heart rose in his throat just for a second before he felt the air rush past him.

He didn't expect the landing, and when his feet touched the ground, he lost balance and crumpled on himself, lying flat on the ground, groaning. The only thing that made it worse was the laughter from behind him, and he turned to glare even harder at the two idiots making fun of him.

"You might wanna move before the next person lands on you," Bokuto suggested, offering his hand although Oikawa pointedly ignored it.

"You'll get used to it," Kuroo assured him. "The trick is to count during your descent, and slow down a bit two seconds before landing. Practice makes perfect. And hey, most new recruits usually use the stairs the first week or so, so don't feel too bad. Even Bokuto did."

"I spent some time getting to know the pole before I used it!" Bokuto shrugged, leading them towards the kitchen.

"Bokuto, you spent three days pole-dancing to Nishinoya's raps."

"I was testing the limits of the acceptable and setting boundaries between us," Bokuto insisted.

"Bro, why don't you use those skills to get yourself a girlfriend instead?" Kuroo snickered. "You're a regular casanova!"

"Major flaw in your plan, bro," Bokuto shook his head, glancing dramatically around the empty warehouse. "There isn't a single girl in this whole damn base!"

"There's always Oikawa," Kuroo snickered, turning around to give the brunet a shit-eating grin.

"Okay, honestly, are you 12?" Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Just cause I'm pretty, pfft."

The three of them laughed as they entered the kitchen, immediately spotting Asahi doing the dishes by the sink, and someone Oikawa didn't recognize setting the toasted pieces of bread on the counter for the agents to help themselves.

"Morning," Kuroo greeted them with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Good morning," Asahi smiled at them right back.

"Hello. Just two pieces of toast, Bokuto," the second boy with short black hair and a kind face reminded him.

"Gimme a break, Ennoshita," Bokuto whined, picking up a plate and throwing his ration of bread on it carelessly. "That was one time!"

"One time too many. You're on our blacklist now," the young man laughed.

"No way!"

"Yes way," the groundskeeper laughed, and then turned to Oikawa. "So hey, I heard you're the new guy. I don't think we met when you arrived."

"No, Asahi was the one who took care of me when I got here," Oikawa shook his head, nodding at the gentle brunet working in the back. "I'm Oikawa Tooru, 20, a sniper from Aoba Johsai."

"It's nice to meet you, Oikawa. I'm Ennoshita Chikara, 19, a groundskeeper of 3 years from Karasuno," the other boy bowed to him, so Oikawa returned the gesture.

"Isn't Karasuno where Daichi is from?" he asked, helping himself to bread, and hallelujah, the last of the peanut butter.

"Yes, but Daichi was not only in another training program, but he was also a year above me, so we hadn't met. A lot of people in the warehouse come from the same outposts but have never met, simply because there are so many different criteria in separating training groups in the same outpost. I'm sure you know that," Ennoshita explained.

"Seijoh did it a bit differently," Oikawa shook his head. "We were also separated by age and specialization half the time, but we also spent the other half working with other specializations in our same age division to learn to act as a team with several different members in it. I've met a lot of other people from different ages and specializations on some of our mock missions. And for our field exit exam, we had to make a team, and complete a timed mission set up by our instructors in an infected zone. I just thought all the outposts did that."

"That's pretty cool. They should, in my opinion, but not all outposts have the budget that Seijoh has, which explains why there's more individual training done in other outposts," Ennoshita shrugged. "But anyway, let's talk some more some other time. I really gotta get to work for now."

"Of course, sorry," Oikawa nodded, and left Ennoshita to his work, noting upon turning around that Kuroo and Bokuto were already gone.

Well, he didn't need to stick to them anyway. He'd just meet more people on his own.

With that thought in mind, he exited the kitchen, heading towards the common room. His watch indicated that he had twenty minutes until dispatch, which gave him plenty of time to eat and then go brush his teeth, and walk around a bit. If he remembered right, there were a little over a dozen people in the warehouse at the moment, and if he counted right, he'd already met five of them. That left over half of the people in the warehouse to meet, so he figured he'd be busy no matter what.

He elected to skip the common room, where Bokuto and Kuroo were making a fuss, and instead headed for the staircase a bit further down to his left. Idly chewing on his warm, peanut-buttery breakfast, he began to climb the long, winding stairs, and the further up he went without reaching the top, the more he understood what Bokuto meant by all his complaints about the staircase. At some point, though, he finally reached the landing, just in time to see a fully dressed Daichi slide down the fireman pole.

His plate now empty, he set it down next to the trash bin, on top of another plate that had been left there with what looked like remnants of last night's mac & cheese. Then, he headed for his bunk, pulling his bag with his meagre belongings out from under the bed, and rifling through them to pull out an old toothbrush and a half-empty tube of toothpaste. Stuffing the brush in his mouth, he began to brush his teeth on his way to the bathrooms on the level of the landing, and immediately upon entering, saw that he wasn't alone. There was another young man with black hair using the urinal, but Oikawa paid him no heed, and headed to the sink to spit.

As he cleaned out his foamy mouth, the young man approached him to use the sink next to his, and once he was done, Oikawa figured he'd greet him.

"Good morning," he chimed, looking into the mirror to see the other person's reaction.

The young man, who previously had his head down, lifted it upon being addressed, and as soon as the brown of Oikawa's eyes fell upon the dark blue of the stranger's, his mouth fell open in shock.

He knew this person.

"No way," he gaped, watching as the other boy frowned in confusion, and then as slowly, recognition dawned on his face.

"Oikawa-san. You're Oikawa, aren't you?" he asked, his affect as flat as before.

"Tobio!?" Oikawa practically screeched. "Little Tobio-chan from Kitagawa Daiichi!?"

"What are you doing here?" the black-haired boy frowned, his question genuine rather than malicious.

"I should ask you the same thing, Tobio-chan!" Oikawa returned.

"I'm the sniper here in Sigma-6," Tobio answered calmly. "Why are you here?"

"I was transferred to Sendai as a sniper as well," Oikawa admitted, and then realized that this was bad news.

Even at Kitagawa Daiichi, Kageyama made training look so instinctive and effortless that it had given the hardworking and skilled Oikawa a run for his money. Whereas the brunet had worked hard to build up his skill, Kageyama Tobio, the little brat, had waltzed in with heaps of natural talent and had nailed every single physical examination they'd been given.

Oikawa had been jealous. So jealous that he'd almost acted out on his jealousy and had jeopardized his own future as a result. Thankfully, Iwaizumi had been there to stop him.

But Iwaizumi wasn't here anymore, and Oikawa's battle to remain superior to Kageyama had begun anew.

"So we're competing for the same position," he mumbled, although Kageyama didn't seem to hear him.

"Let's work together, then. But I will show you how much better I've become since Kitagawa Daiichi," Kageyama told him, irking Oikawa immediately.

"Don't get cocky, little boy. How old are you, even, 18?"

"18, with three years at Karasuno," Kageyama answered, not understanding that the question was rhetorical. "I specialized in long-range rapid precision fire, but I can only do it with a spotter. I know your rapid-fire technique is mid-range only, but I learned a lot from you during my training, which is why I have to surpass you, with all due respect."

"You really think you can be better than me at this game? I had 4 years at Aoba Johsai, Tobio-chan. Think you can top that?" Oikawa challenged, crossing his arms.

Kageyama looked ready to answer the rhetorical question once again, but the door to the bathrooms slamming open cut him off. The two boys whipped towards the newcomer, startled by the sudden noise, and relaxed when they saw that it was just a small teenager with spiked black hair.

"Kageyama!" he called, waving him over. "What are you doing, taking a dump!? We're gonna be late to dispatch and Daichi's gonna get mad!"

"Ah, sorry, Nishinoya-senpai," Kageyama apologized quickly to the smaller boy and immediately left Oikawa's side to go with him.

"You, too, whoever you are!" Nishinoya motioned to Oikawa, who was transfixed by the small patch of bleached blond hair hanging in front of the boy's eyes. "You must be new, so here's friendly advice. Don't be late to morning dispatch!"

"Coming," Oikawa nodded, still a bit disgruntled, but willing to let the issue drop. He dropped his toothbrush on the sink, figuring he'd pick it up later, and followed them out of the washrooms and towards the fireman pole.

His only thought as he slid down was that he'd have to swallow his jealousy and work with Kageyama as much as he had to, because if Seijoh had taught him anything, it was the importance of cohesion amongst the division. He couldn't jeopardize all of their lives because of a dumb rivalry.

(But he still didn't have to like working with Kageyama).

His landing was unsteady again, but he quickly recovered and jogged after Nishinoya and Kageyama towards the meeting room, a quick look at his watch proving that he was a couple of minutes late.

The three of them ran into the room, Nishinoya apologizing loudly to announce their late arrival.

Daichi did not look impressed.

"This time, it wasn't even us," Bokuto commented from the other side of the room, crossing his arms proudly.

"Nishinoya, sit down," Daichi sighed, as if he was used to these interruptions, and then looked back down at his clipboard. "As I was saying, there's nothing new for today. The only news we've got is a new addition to our team, and I'd like you all to help him settle in. Oikawa, if you want to briefly introduce yourself..." he suggested.

"Sure," Oikawa beamed at the opportunity to make himself known, hoping, under all the bravado and flaunting, that people would not weigh him against Kageyama, and if they did, that they would not see him as less skilled than Kageyama. "I'm Oikawa Tooru, 20, with 4 years at Aoba Johsai. I'm a sniper specializing in long-range precision shots and middle-range rapid fire. I'm looking forward to working with you all!" He flashed the small crowd a peace sign.

"That's that for novelty," Daichi immediately continued. "The assignments will be posted on the billboard in a few minutes. Lunch will be a bit late, around 1300 hours, but dinner is still at 1800. It's going to be a clear day out today, with a high of 18 degrees Celsius, and minimal wind. It's now 0805 hours on Friday September 19 2043, and day 163 since the beginning of the Sigma-6 initiative. Have a safe and productive day, everyone."

"Thanks, Daichi!" Nishinoya and Bokuto crowed out in unison as the agents began to file out of the room.

The people around him were quiet, some of them still in their pyjamas and looking like they were only half awake. Oikawa thought of conversing a bit with the ones he hadn't met yet, but the look in everyone's eye convinced him otherwise. He decided that he'd meet everyone in due time, and just followed the flow towards the common room.

Once there, he found a good spot in front of the billboard, and waited for Daichi like everyone else. The dispatch agent arrived a few minutes later, switching the old assignment list for the new one, and immediately retreating from the mass of people who were now wriggling around to try and see their assignment. Thankfully, Oikawa had really good eyesight, and even from a bit further back, he spotted his name on the list.

"Oikawa, what did you get?" Kuroo asked him from next to him, having checked his assignment already.

"Training. Guess I'm expected to start slow," he shrugged.

"Awesome! I'm on training, too, and Bokuto's been out on two consecutive days, so he's on training for sure. Let's train together!" he suggested.

"Sounds fine by me," Oikawa nodded, figuring that he'd rather be stuck with the overexcited boys than with Kageyama for training.

He wouldn't jinx himself and hope for an uneventful day. He tried not to think about it and followed Kuroo away from the crowd.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

The day was uneventful indeed. They did some hand-to-hand combat, Bokuto wiping the floor with Oikawa's ass even though Oikawa had been one of the best in his team back in Seijoh. They also went to the firing range, Kuroo and Bokuto forfeiting the competition from the start because they were up against a sniper. Instead of competing, though, Oikawa coached them, and they were much more productive. Then, they practised weapon combat, and though the match was very tight, Kuroo ended up winning over Bokuto. They had lunch with the four other people left in the warehouse, did some physical conditioning, played 21 on the basketball court, and did some maintenance on their weapons and armour. All in all, it was a good day, and it passed by quickly. Before they knew it, it was past 5PM, and the people out on expeditions were due back soon.

At that point, the boys had showered after a long day of work and were playing video games in the common room. It was nice to have a day inside once in a while, and Oikawa was glad he'd had the opportunity to start with one of the more relaxed days. He felt ready to go out on an expedition tomorrow.

They were absorbed in their video game, Oikawa getting smug satisfaction from Kuroo's and Bokuto's whining when he beat them on Rainbow Road, so none of them noticed the time fly by. Their only cue was when Ennoshita passed by the common room to go towards the kitchen, reminding them that dinner would be served in ten minutes.

Excited at the prospect of food, they tied up their game and tidied up the common room before heading towards the kitchen.

Nishinoya was already there, trying to cajole extra portions out of Asahi, who was serving the food with a look on his face that screamed 'please help!'.

"Yo Noya, don't be an asshole and leave some for us, too," Kuroo called out as they approached.

"I'm just saying, it makes sense!" Noya turned to him to justify himself. "If the ones on expeditions aren't back yet, then there's no point in letting perfectly good food go cold. They missed dinnertime, so that's just too bad for them!"

"It makes sense, but it's only just 6PM," Oikawa shrugged. "Give them some time. Maybe they got caught in traffic."

"Good one," Bokuto snorted obnoxiously, thrusting his plate towards Asahi. "Feed me please!"

"Here you go," Asahi smiled kindly at him, looking relieved now that he wasn't the target of Noya's attention.

"Well, if they're not back by 6:30, I'm asking for seconds," Noya hummed, picking up his utensils.

"Well in that case, you won't be alone, cause you can be sure I'll show up for seconds!" Bokuto backed him up, heading out of the kitchen.

"It doesn't work like that, though!" Asahi protested, but they were long gone.

"Better luck next time, Asahi," Kuroo smirked, amused, and left with his portion. That only left Oikawa.

"If there are seconds, save me some," he whispered conspiratorially, and winked saucily at Asahi's desperate expression before leaving as well.

The expedition team didn't come back by 6:30, and so Ennoshita came out to the common room to announce that there would be seconds available.

However, at that point, something like a knot was beginning to grow in the agents' stomachs, and nobody actually asked for any.

"It's getting late," Kuroo mumbled once they left their dishes and vacated to other activities, the inseparable duo climbing the ladder to the landing to grab some stuff. "Someone should tell Daichi."

"Daichi's not base commander, though. He won't be able to give us orders on what to do. He just dispatches people," Bokuto answered thoughtfully, his feet clanging on the metal rungs.

"Maybe he can dispatch us somewhere to help clear up the situation?" Kuroo tried, laughing deprecatingly at his own suggestion.

"You wish." They all wished. It was nearing 7PM, and the others still hadn't returned. Dusk had already fallen, and soon, it would be time to close the curtains around the windows.

They completed their ascent in silence, and headed towards the clean laundry basket left by the groundskeepers to pick out whatever clothes belonged to them. As they worked, someone stepped out of the washroom and began heading for one of the fireman poles. Thankfully, Bokuto caught him in his peripheral vision and perked up, calling him over.

"Hey Daichi!"

Daichi turned to them, letting the pole go and heading over to see what he wanted.

"Yes?" he asked, stopping next to them.

"Just wondering what we were gonna do about the people who haven't come back yet. It's almost 7 now," he expressed with concern.

"I didn't think of that. I figured they were just held up. Hell, I don't know what I should do. Our protocols dictate that we just go on as if it was a normal day, and that we not extend blackout, lockdown, or curfew hours, but honestly, I don't know about that," he explained uncomfortably. "I guess I'll just give them a bit more time to get here. Until lockdown hour, so 8PM. If they're not back by the time we lock the fence gate and the warehouse doors, well..."

"Can we send scouts to see if something happened?" Bokuto suggested.

"Noya is the only scout still on base. The other one was on an expedition today. I don't wanna send Noya out alone and risking him staying out after lockdown," Daichi mused out loud. "I could ask our snipers, since both of them were on base... Kageyama has a really long-range vision with his gun, and I suppose Oikawa does, too, so I guess I could ask them to be on the lookout until lockdown..."

"That's fine. If they see something, they can report, and we can figure out something to do," Kuroo agreed.

"Man, at times like these I wish the base commander and supervisor stayed with us here instead of being far away. Reception's been terrible these days, so I don't think I could even contact them for advice," Daichi sighed, eyes downcast.

"No worries, Dai," Kuroo grinned, dropping his laundry in favour of throwing an arm around the short-haired boy's shoulders. "We can take care of ourselves. We have so far."

"You're right," Daichi smiled, looking tired and overburdened, but strong in the way he still stood tall. "I'll go find Kageyama and Oikawa. If you see either of them, please pass on the order."

"Gotcha," the two friends nodded in unison, Kuroo letting go of Daichi so that the dispatch agent could head off.

As he slid down, out of sight, Kuroo and Bokuto returned to finding their laundry and folding it quietly, pensive. It was weird to see them so subdued, but at the same time, they couldn't bring themselves to talk. Not with so much uncertainty filling the void left by their voices, anyway.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

Oikawa was not happy about being stuck on an assignment with Kageyama, mostly because it was an impromptu assignment, and he hadn't had the time to prepare to work with his biggest rival. Still, he wasn't stupid, and understood the importance of this mission, and so the stress of this burden on his shoulders helped alleviate the annoyance he felt at being in such close quarters with the younger man. The sniping tower up on the roof was a pretty small spot, if you asked him.

"Anything on your end?" he asked, taking a break from looking into his gun's scope to take a broad look at the horizon. Night had most definitely fallen now, and they're been out here for over 40 minutes without catching sight of anything. Ten minutes more, and they'd be locking down, with still no sight of the people who'd been sent out.

"None," Kageyama clicked his tongue, mimicking his move to give his eyes a break. "What do you think we're looking out for?"

"Maybe the light of a dirt bike returning towards the warehouse? But I've been looking at the road in the distance for a while now and I still haven't see a single light go by," Oikawa bit his lip in thought.

"The forest is quiet, too," Kageyama reported. "I haven't seen a single animal or human, but in this darkness, it's hard to tell. I'm going to switch to night vision soon, I think."

"We're looking for a light, so we should be able to spot one with or without night vision," Oikawa mumbled, unwilling to admit that night vision would probably be a good idea, considering how obscure it was out there.

"True," Kageyama conceded, sighing. "This feels kind of pointless. They're probably dead."

"You're saying that like they don't matter," Oikawa frowned, turning to him.

"Well, I can't mourn everyone on this planet, can I?" Kageyama frowned in return, turning to make eye contact. "It's pointless to get upset."

"Don't you have any emotions?" Oikawa spat out, more and more ticked with the boy's attitude.

"I do. I just don't throw them around for everyone I meet. Don't you have any restraint in your emotions?" Kageyama retorted soberly.

"You are a part of a team, Tobio-chan," Oikawa hissed almost venomously. "You need to care for your teammates, you need to understand them and treat them like extensions of yourself. If you don't have cohesion in your unit, how do you think you'll function effectively?"

"I can't afford that around here, Oikawa," the black-haired boy gritted his teeth. "People can die overnight these days. Why should I make such close relationships with everyone when they could be gone the next day? If I make them extensions of myself, then it will be like losing a limb every single day. I can't reach the top and survive if I let myself be bogged down by things like friendship and camaraderie. Skill is what matters!"

"You idiot!" Oikawa boiled over, grabbing him by the lapels of his shirt.

"Let go of me!" Kageyama protested, trying to pry Oikawa's grip off of him with the only free hand he had.

"Listen to yourself! Do you think you can win the war by yourself!?" the brunet continued regardless. "Do you think you can survive in isolation and denial? Do you think you can do everything by yourself?"

"Let go!"

"Why the hell are you here, then? Why are you a part of Sigma-6? Get the fuck out there and fight by yourself and die by yourself, if you don't believe in teamwork!"

"I was drafted, you asshole!" Kageyama cried out, struggling against his senior's grip, and the sudden fire, the sudden hate that flared up in his eyes almost convinced Oikawa to let him go. But he didn't. However, he did listen. "My family died in those initial waves of invasion, and I grew up alone in a city walled off as a safe zone. I was drafted because I had to pay my debts towards the government somehow. I was drafted, pulled away from my school, from my hobbies, from my entire life, so that I could train and become a killer. All my life, I've been alone, and look how far I've come." He extended his arms, as if in surrender, and the fire in his eyes died down. "I don't need other people's help. I'm just here because my life is worth thirteen years in the N.E.T., and there's no point in trying to make friends through it. All of us just need to kill as many zombies as we can before they kill us. That's what this entire initiative is all about."

"Tobio..." Oikawa began, feeling his throat lock up. "No, that's not... That's not what the N.E.T. is about at all..."

"Stop kidding yourself. You're so gullible," the other sniper glared at him. "Especially for us snipers, there's no point in making friends. We only need our own skill to shoot, and we're so far away that we don't need anyone watching our backs. You're letting yourself be slowed down by this whole 'making friends' business."

"You're the gullible one if you think that being lonely is going to make you any stronger!" Oikawa shook him for emphasis. "Idiot! Just because you've made it this far on your own, it doesn't mean that's the right way for things to be! It doesn't mean that you should have, and it doesn't mean that you should continue. Connecting with people might be too hard to get through that thick skull of yours, but if you work in sync with others, you'll be a hundred times better. I've been to Seijoh for 4 years. And do you know why Seijoh is a powerhouse outpost?"

"Doesn't matter-"

"Seijoh is a powerhouse because they don't just value individual strength, but the strength in unity as well," Oikawa explained a bit more calmly, trying to get his words through to the other boy. His grip loosened until he only had his hand on Kageyama's collar for show. "The people who come out of Seijoh are a hundred times better than you, or anyone else, because they've learned over the years to trust in others, and to plugs the gaps in other people's skills with their own. Someday, you might be good enough to surpass me, but right now, like this, there's no way you can. Not until you realize that you may be some freaky talented genius on your own, but it's only connecting with others that will actually make you strong."

"How strong will you be when you look through your scope, down at the battlefield, and see Kuroo bleeding out, dismembered, or Bokuto being eaten alive by something that used to be Daichi? How strong will you be then, hmm?" Kageyama shot back, his tone more tame, as if he was testing Oikawa, and trying to understand.

He was so young. So broken, so hurt, but still so innocent. Oikawa pitied him.

"And how strong will you be when you look through your scope and see no one, nothing but endless waves of the undead coming for you? How strong will you be when you are alone in facing your death?" he returned, looking straight at Kageyama, trying to make him understand.

Kageyama seemed to want to answer. He really did look like he wanted to say something, probably another snappy or dismissive comment, but he could find nothing. And slowly, there was something akin to resignation -not defeat, but resignation- that dawned in his eyes.

He looked away, and Oikawa smiled briefly, sadly.

He was about to let him go, finally, when Kageyama suddenly shot back into a tense posture, breaking away from Oikawa, and glancing around.

"Tobio?" the brunet asked, frowning.

"Shh," the other sniper hushed him, frowning as well. "Listen. Do you hear that?"

Oikawa fell silent, and quieted his breathing as if it was second nature to do so. Asides from the gentle wind rustling the grass on the plains and the leaves from the forest to the south, he couldn't hear much.

He was about to say so, when he realized that the rustling of leaves from a forest a kilometre away from them wouldn't have reached his ears, no matter how strong the wind was. That noise was definitely not from leaves.

"It's coming from there," he whispered, rushing to the south side of the sniping tower, and peering over. Kageyama immediately imitated him, and, quickly, screwed the night scope onto his sniper rifle before raising it up, and glancing at the horizon, where the forest loomed like a black mass in the darkness.

Oikawa quickly screwed his own night scope on as well, but by the time he got it on, Kageyama took a sharp breath that sounded like a stifled gasp.

"What's up? What do you see?" Oikawa asked, steadying his scope, and then setting his gun down on the barriers of the tower to steady it.

"Look at the forest," Kageyama whispered, as if he was suddenly afraid to raise his voice.

And when Oikawa did, when he adjusted his sight onto the black mass in the distance, he saw what Kageyama saw. And although the sight was very blurry, the shapes undefined, they were definitely in motion, and Oikawa had never seen trees move before.

"Zombies. Shit," he swore, moving his gun a little more, just to try and get a better picture of what they were dealing with. "How many do you think there are?"

"Hard to tell. They came through the forest, so they're hidden by the trees," Kageyama answered, biting his lip. "There could be twenty, there could be twenty thousand."

"Shit," Oikawa repeated, feeling numb. This was definitely not what his first day at the base was supposed to be like. "We have to warn the others."

"Go and do that," Kageyama suggested. "I'll stay up here, keep observing them to get a better estimate of how many there are."

"We'll probably be locking down and blacking out, Kageyama," Oikawa warned him. "Don't stay outside when that happens."

"Just go," the other boy grunted, and Oikawa gave in, slinging his weapon on his back and taking the winding staircase down to the roof.

Without another look back at the tower, he ran towards the door that led down to the inside of the warehouse.

He took the stairs two by two, jumping the last three that led down to the second floor. He ran past the glass walls of the laboratory, circling the area until he reached the next staircase down. He continued to take the stairs two by two, willing himself not to trip, to stay calm, and to have a plan in mind.

First, he had to warn Daichi. The dispatch agent knew his team's abilities best and would be able to dispatch people to lock down, and to execute a blackout. Then, he'd have to help. Someone would have to do get Kageyama from the roof before the door to the roof was barred.

There were many things going through his mind, so when he finally reached the exit for the landing, he ran out onto the platform, willing himself not to look down in his haste, and ran.

Kuroo and Bokuto were by the nearest pole, playing cards or something, and looked up as soon as they heard Oikawa emerge from the staircase.

"Where's Daichi!?" Oikawa demanded without pausing in his sprint.

"His office, probably," Kuroo answered, watching him zoom past them. "Why?"

"Undefined class horde, we gotta lock down and black out!" Oikawa answered hastily, and practically threw himself onto the pole, sliding down without further ado.

And although Bokuto understood the urgency of the situation, he could not help but peer over the side to where Oikawa landed seamlessly on the ground floor, and kept running.

"What a perfect landing," he whistled, getting up and gathering the cards.

"Yep. A perfect ten," Kuroo acquiesced, his usual smirk faltering, and turned to head towards his bunk to gather his equipment for the upcoming manoeuvres.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

Oikawa all but burst into Daichi's office, out of breath, but glad to have made it.

"Daichi!" he called out, going around the bookcases until he reached the desk where the dispatch agent was working on some files.

"What's wrong?" Daichi immediately stood up, sensing that something was amiss.

"We spotted an undefined class horde heading towards us from the south, via the forest," Oikawa began explaining immediately. "We think it's at least a class 2 or class 3. I suggest we lock down and black out."

"Shit, that many?" Daichi bit his lip, quickly pacing out of the room with Oikawa hot on his heel.

"Definitely. This isn't something we can fight, not with the eight people we've got available right now," Oikawa put in his two cents.

"If you say so, then I believe you," Daichi nodded, stepping out into the main area of the warehouse, and cupping his hands around his mouth. Oikawa only had a second to prepare himself before Daichi's surprisingly booming voice rang out in his ears. "Emergency dispatch!"

It was almost comical how people seemed to appear from everywhere. Noya vaulted over the sofa in the common room, rushing to where Daichi stood, whilst Ennoshita and Kuroo each slid down a fireman pole a second later. Bokuto followed down the pole as well, and Asahi appeared from the opening leading to the medical unit a moment later.

"Where's Kageyama?" Noya asked immediately, looking around.

"The roof. There's been a class 2 or 3 horde sighting from the forest. We're going under," Daichi announced. "Bokuto, Kuroo, and Ennoshita, curtain the windows! Asahi, the lights! Noya, get to the roof to grab Kageyama and lock the roof door on your way down! Oikawa, with me to the front to secure the gates! Go!"

"Right!" All the agents nodded, and broke up immediately, as if they all knew exactly what to do. Not a single person idled, and Oikawa was actually impressed by how efficiently they moved.

"ETA?" Daichi asked as he and Oikawa ran towards the warehouse main entrance.

"I'd say twenty minutes until they get within detection range," Oikawa estimated, following dutifully.

"That's plenty of preparation time. Good job on detection," Daichi praised briefly before pushing the heavy metal door to the outside of the warehouse.

The frigid air nipped at their exposed skin, but they had no time to complain. Even in the darkness, they pressed on, jogging towards the gate of the twelve-foot tall fence that protected the four sides of their warehouse.

"Get the chain and lock," Daichi ordered, immediately grabbing the sliding gate of the fence and pulling it as far as it would go. Oikawa grabbed the heavy chain by its side and handed it to Daichi, helping him wind it through the links of the fence.

"Wait!" A voice suddenly cried out, the two boys immediately on high alert. "I heard someone moving the gate chain! Don't lock yet, I need help!"

"ID yourself!" Daichi demanded.

"It's me, Furihata!" the person speaking to them through the darkness cried out, and soon, there was a shape in the darkness that came closer until he grasped the links. "Let me in!"

"Furihata!" Daichi gasped, and though Oikawa did not recognize the guy, especially not in the dark, he figured that it was one of the people he hadn't met yet, and who had gone on an expedition. "What happened?"

"The zombies... they're on the move!" The man panted out, exhausted. "The roads are full of them, and they're all headed towards the cities!"

"Tch," Daichi clicked his tongue, undoing the chain they'd put up. Oikawa just watched.

"Whoever's not back is probably dead," Furihata reported solemnly. "I barely got out myself. These roads are going to be inaccessible for a while."

"And were you aware of the horde from the forest?" Daichi asked, sliding the gate open for the man to enter.

"They're fleeing the countryside, joining the roads to head for the city," the man gasped out, and stumbled in just as Daichi slid the gate closed again.

Something about him gave Oikawa a bad feeling. So immediately, he swung his rifle to the front, and raised the scope to his eye. The person's form was very blurry, the focal point of the lens in the totally wrong setting, but a quick, gross adjustment made Oikawa's vision much clearer.

And he saw what Daichi had not seen in the dark.

"He's bitten, Daichi!" he hissed, his hands tightening on his weapon. The guy looked up at him, unwittingly exposing more of his face, which was splattered in blood. One of his hands was clamped uselessly over his other arm, which had a large part of it missing, exposing the bone. Especially in night vision, the man looked pale as a ghost, and moments away from death.

"Furihata!" Daichi gasped. "Shit, we can't let you in."

"Please!" The man cried, the boy, even, for he did not look a day over 19. Probably Nishinoya's age. Oikawa didn't even remember what position he held. "Please don't make me go back out there! I ran all the way here to warn you!"

"And for that, we thank you, but we can't risk you putting everyone else in danger," Daichi tried to explain, his tone solemn.

"Daichi, we have to finish locking up and get inside," Oikawa warned him, the howling of the demons hot on their heels chilling him far more than any gust of wind could.

"I know," the other boy choked out, and Oikawa stepped back, wishing he didn't have to put so many burdens on his young shoulders. "I know. I'm sorry, Furihata."

"You don't get to make that call!" the man protested frantically, getting up suddenly. Oikawa took a step back and followed his jerky movements with his scope, though at this proximity, a sniper's scope could not do much, no matter how well-adjusted the lens was. "You're just a dispatch agent, Daichi! You're no commander, you don't get to pick who lives or die!"

"You're practically already dead, Furihata, you and I both know it!"

"Stop it!" the boy cried out, tears streaming down his face, and evident in his trembling voice. "Please, save me!"

"I... I can't... We can't..."

"Daichi, should I shoot?" Oikawa asked, his heart leaping in his throat at the suggestion. This had been a part of their training, too, killing living, infected comrades, but Oikawa had always been a people person, and never did well on those exercises. The fact that he hadn't met Furihata yet helped, but his hands still shook. He thought back to what Kageyama had said.

Would he have suggested it if this was Bokuto or Kuroo standing here?

"No!" the agent roared, turning to Oikawa with rage in his eyes. Oikawa's heart sped up exponentially as he tensed, ready to defend himself when the animalistic glint in the other's eyes took him over.

"Furihata, calm down!" Daichi begged him, but had no idea what else to do.

Thankfully, the door to the warehouse swung open at that moment, and all eyes went to it, though they couldn't see it.

"Daichi?" Asahi's voice rang out. "Are you still here? The blackout is done, we just need to finish locking down."

"Asahi?" Furihata whimpered. "Asahi, is that you?"

"Y-Yes?" the shy man called out. "Furihata?"

"Oh god," the man cried out, turning to Asahi's general direction. Oikawa followed him with his scope, watching him stumble towards the groundskeeper, who looked slightly worried. "Please, please let me go with Asahi."

"He's bitten," Daichi clarified, and Oikawa did a double-take when he thought he saw Asahi's eyes harden into something serious.

"Please, let me talk to him," Furihata pleaded again.

"Only if Asahi wants to. Asahi?" Daichi asked, locking up the gate anyway, and then motioning for Oikawa to move forward, until Furihata was stuck between all three of the other agents.

"Please, Asahi," Furihata begged. "Just a little while."

"Alright," Asahi agreed. "But where?"

"You'll have to do it outside. We can't keep him inside when we're anticipating a siege. Be very quickly about it, ETA 10 minutes," Daichi warned.

"I'll be brief," Asahi promised, and Oikawa saw him walked forward, kindly putting his hand on Furihata's intact shoulder.

The man burst out into loud tears, falling to his knees, and Asahi sat with him on the ground, hushing him calmly.

"Oikawa, come. Let's magnetize the warehouse doors and leave them alone," Daichi whispered, leading him away. The sniper took one last look at the sad spectacle, and then did as Daichi asked, following him inside.

The warehouse was now completely dark, not a single light still open. The faint LED of the gate control panel was still active, but it barely shone in the darkness, even when Daichi began tapping on it.

"Okay, so the roof door has been magnetized. The warehouse gate has been magnetized as well. Now, we just need to wait for Asahi to return, and we can magnetize the front door as well," Daichi mumbled, his mind clearly occupied.

"Can I ask you something?" Oikawa asked in a whisper, afraid of raising his voice for some reason.

"Hmm?"

"What's that about Asahi?" he asked, hesitant about getting an answer. "Is it because he's naturally a caring guy and puts dying people at ease, or...?"

"Kind of," Daichi muttered, his voice suddenly choked up. "Asahi is... unique. 20 years old, 4 years at Karasuno. He began his training as a front-liner, but found out that he was too affected by death and violence to keep going, so he switched to groundskeeping. Here, in this warehouse, he's like... our angel of death."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oikawa kept pushing despite the knot in his stomach making him nauseous.

"When people are bitten, he talks to them. He calms them down, soothes their worries, gets their final words..." Daichi paused, as if searching for his words. If it wasn't that dark, Oikawa was sure he'd see a conflict raging war on Daichi's face. "And he puts them out of their misery."

"Oh."

Just like that, the silence around them seemed to speak volumes.

"He doesn't like doing it, but he's a very sensitive and self-sacrificing guy. So he does it anyway," Daichi finished, looking up when the door opened, letting Asahi come in. Once it was closed, they were plunged in pitch black again, and Oikawa was suddenly nervous.

"The front door is magnetized. Lock down is complete," Daichi announced, turning to the interior of the warehouse. "Everyone should be in the common room, as per our blackout protocol. Let's head there."

"I just need to use the washroom first," Asahi mumbled unclearly. "I'll meet you there."

They let him go without a word, walking forward. Daichi seemed to have memorized the layout of the warehouse, and he was able to lead them both to the common room without incident.

"Role call," he announced as he arrived, not too loud, definitely not as loud and powerful and authoritative as Oikawa was used to hearing him. "Bokuto?"

"Yup."

"Kuroo?"

"Here."

"Nishinoya?"

"I'm here."

"Kageyama?"

"Present."

"Ennoshita?"

"Right here."

"Oikawa?"

"Yeah," Oikawa hummed, his throat tight after all of the happenings.

"And Asahi is in the washroom. We're good," Daichi counted.

"We laid out the futons for everyone," Bokuto announced, strangely subdued. "I've got a pair of extra earplugs, if anyone needs them."

"I don't have any," Ennoshita mumbled guiltily, and there was shuffling in the dark as they passed around the earplugs.

"Alright, everyone go to sleep. We'll deal with everything tomorrow morning," Daichi suggested, and everyone acquiesced in low voices.

Oikawa found his way to a futon that seemed to be empty and crawled into it, leaving his rifle by his side. Next to him, he heard people getting settled, and when he plugged his ears with the plugs he carried in his pants at all times, he was only left with the loud beating of his own heart in his ears.

But he'd trained for sieges, he'd trained for blackouts and emergencies and all of those nasty, unwanted situations. He was not afraid. He was not afraid.

(Okay, maybe just a little. Maybe just enough to keep him awake, even when everyone around him seemed to have gone to sleep).

But then when someone snored loud enough to get through his earplugs, he finally settled down and relaxed enough to let sleep take him, strangely enough finding solace in the fact that at least he wasn't alone.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

There was no alarm that woke Kuroo up in the morning. At first, he was surprised, but when he woke up in the relative obscurity of a blacked-out warehouse, with the ceiling far more distant than he was used to having it, he remembered that he was currently on the couch in the common room, not in his bed on the landing.

He got up into a sitting position, noting that there were a few people still sleeping in their futons. He figured he wouldn't bother them, and quietly got up from the couch, stepping over the bodies around him on his way to the bathroom.

He didn't dare take the earplugs out of his ears yet. Not when he didn't know what he'd hear if he did.

He went around the base, getting his morning routine done. He'd changed out of his pyjamas last night in anticipation for a possible Minuteman Manoeuvre, so he decided to stay in his sweatpants and shirt instead of going to get changed.

Finally, he headed towards the kitchen, waving to Kageyama, who'd visibly just woken up in the common room, on his way there. Inside the kitchen itself, Ennoshita was drying a pile of dishes and was putting them in the cupboards. When he spotted him, the younger man waved, and his lips moved into a question.

"Ah, sorry," Kuroo chuckled, pulling the plugs out of his ears. "Can you repeat?"

"I asked you if you'd taken a look outside yet, but if you haven't even unplugged your ears, I don't think you have," Ennoshita laughed.

"Not yet. I was intending to go check from the roof once I woke up fully. Do you know what's out there?" Kuroo asked again, letting his hearing filter back in after a night of deprivation. The were some muffled noises, but the door to the kitchen was heavy and the minuteman was sure that when he exited, he'd hear much more.

"I didn't see, but I can get an idea from what I heard this morning," Ennoshita replied, his smile wavering a bit. "Anyway, Daichi's trying to reach through to the commander to ask for further orders, but so far, there's no leadership giving orders to us."

"Guess we'll just have to take matters into our own hands!" Kuroo shrugged good-naturedly. "No worries, Ennoshita. We're all super-agents with plenty of training, so we'll figure something out!"

"I wasn't worried, Kuroo," the groundskeeper laughed at his attitude, and Kuroo felt like it was a good moment to leave and face what awaited him out in the main area.

Pushing the door open with a slight wave, he exited.

The noise immediately reached his ears. It wasn't deafening, more like a steady background noise, but it was there, and Kuroo recognized it instantly. The moaning and groaning of a mass of undead was hard to mistake for anything else, after all.

He slowly made his way up the ladder, wishing Bokuto was there to talk to him about meaningless things, but his friend had not been there when he'd woken. Instead, he made his way up to the landing, and towards the staircase, climbing it up.

The lab on the second floor was still abandoned. They hadn't had a researcher settle in Sendai since the last one got eaten on one of her field days outside. Generally, the younger-age divisions didn't have many researchers, because they weren't the R&D faction of the N.E.T., but Kuroo liked the idea of someone working actively on ameliorating their conditions.

He walked down the tight, curved corridor lined by glass, giving onto the lab, until he reached the next set of stairs that led up to the roof. Those stairs weren't long, and soon, Kuroo threw his weight against the heavy roof door to get out.

As soon as he exited, the moaning of the zombies rose in volume again. Kuroo clicked his teeth but forewent the earplugs, seeing as there were other people on the roof. Namely, Nishinoya, who was sitting by the fence surrounding the rooftop, and was glaring down at the ground below.

"You look concentrated," he commented, approaching the scout and looking down at what he saw.

Kuroo had always hated zombies, but he hated them even more when they were in high numbers. And now, looking down at the wriggling mass pushing against the fence from all sides, moaning as if making enough noise for long enough would guarantee their victory.

(It probably would with regular people, but the N.E.T. agents were trained to survive in psychologically challenging situations such as sieges, and they would not give in).

"I'm running escape routes through simulations in my head," the small agent answered after a moment. "In case, you know."

"I don't think we'll need to abandon Sendai. This is a lower class 3 horde, maybe around 300 of them, so we can outwait it. If we don't show signs of life, they'll start to leave at some point," Kuroo shrugged, watching the zombies push against the fence in an attempt to break it down. "It's just a waiting game until then."

"Kageyama and Oikawa are thinking of shooting some down. Their shooting doesn't make noise so it wouldn't be dangerous. It'd waste tons of ammo, though," Nishinoya hummed. "If there were less of them, I would've liked to go down and smash them to bits."

"Noya, your aggressiveness is showing," Kuroo chided teasingly.

"Come on, you know the only reason I'm not a front-liner is because I have a very small stature," the scout grinned up at Kuroo, though it seemed a bit strained.

"I know," Kuroo nodded at him, and then got away from the fence a bit to avoid the risk of being seen. "But you're still invaluable. After all, who else is gonna be tiny enough to sneak through a horde of zombies unseen?"

"I'm not microscopic, either!"

It felt good to laugh, which is what they both did in response to that last statement. Then, letting the moaning of the undead below fill the silence, they looked up at the clear sky, and wondered what they could do today, stuck inside until dusk fell yet again.

The most annoying –and dangerous- part of a siege was boredom, after all.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

Supplies were not a problem for them. Their next supply run was due in two weeks, but they'd lost half of their members in a single day, which meant plenty of rations for everyone. But that was not what the agents were missing.

No, food wasn't a concern. Not when they spent every day inside, in the dim light filtering past the heavy curtains around every single window. Not when the only fresh air they got was at their own risk and peril on the roof. Not when the incessant moans of the undead haunted their senses, always in the background, always there and reminding them that they were so painfully mortal. Not when Mario Kart lost its novelty and exercises tired them out more than they energized them.

Slowly, they began to lose sleep, the moans ringing in their ears even after they plugged their ears for the night. The more daring ones took the risk of sleeping in their beds on the landing, although a midnight pee was out of the question for them, lest they fall off the landing in the total obscurity. Still, sleep became a precious commodity that was scarce more and more, making them silent and fatigued all day.

Appetite wasn't a problem. It couldn't be, seeing as none of them had any to work with.

Surprisingly, Bokuto cracked first, shocking the hell out of a few people when he suddenly burst into tears at breakfast one day, finally after several days of obviously having been out of it. Kuroo ended up talking to him and being able to salvage a part of him that hadn't become desperate yet, and everyone was silently glad they wouldn't have to deal with any psychological breakdowns.

For such a tough guy, Bokuto was known to be sensitive, but he was still one of the strongest amongst them, so his meltdown affected more than a couple of the other agents.

It was infuriating, nauseating, and just maddening to always hear the screeches of the undead clawing at their surprisingly-resilient gate. Their training had always warned them about the dangers of the zombie's bite, but how the zombie's cry was even more dangerous. Still, no simulation had ever prepared them for something like this.

How could a simulation, which ran for a couple of days at best, have prepared them for 9 days of siege?

In Daichi's opinion, the reason why the zombies stayed for such a long time was because they smelled the fresh human scent stuck on every piece of equipment in the warehouse courtyard. On top of that, Furihata's fresh corpse had been hidden in the courtyard, in the dumpster, according to Asahi, so the smell of fresh blood had probably piqued their interest. Now, though, as the scent faded with every passing day, more and more zombies gave up and left towards the road, until a third of the initial wave was left clawing at their front step only. With Oikawa and Kageyama occasionally taking out a dozen or so from the sniping tower, in the end, the noise had been reduced to a slightly more tolerable level.

None of them could come up with any plans, though, to speed up the process of extermination. The zombies were surrounding the warehouse at any rate, and they had to get their agents outside the fence if they wanted to have any chance at beating them.

If they had a catapult, Nishinoya had theorized, they could have launched agents over the fence to the other side. But the only thing that idea had done was elicit laughter from the others, and make them wish they had a catapult.

On day 10, which looked like yet another bleak day when they woke up to the sound of familiar moaning, salvation finally wormed its way out of the masses of undead, and came to them at last.

The boys had made it a habit to go up on the roof in the mid-morning hours, when the breeze would be chilly and refreshing, but not unpleasant. The roof was also where the noise from below was the least audible, and they liked to talk, exercise, and snack on bell peppers Asahi sneaked out for them from the small greenhouse that had been built on the rooftop. Oikawa was trying -and failing- to spot for Kageyama in order to give him an opportunity to practice his precision rapid-fire technique, and the two were getting frustrated yet again at one another. Daichi was talking to Kuroo about hypothetical assault plans if they had more manpower, and Kuroo was actively discussing tactics with him while combing Bokuto's hair with his hands. His best friend was lying with his head on his lap, reading a comic book he'd already read twice with a look of boredom on his face, and was tapping his foot to a song that Ennoshita was softly humming as he and Asahi mended a bunch of clothes belonging to their late agents so that they could be reused. Noya was running laps around the roof, his energy boundless, occasionally stopping by the group to grab a bell pepper from the towel on the ground where Asahi had set them.

It was yet another day if they didn't consider the fact that they were still stranded.

Their salvation, however, was totally unexpected. Especially since it made such a dramatic entrance.

At first, it started with a bit of extra noise. Then, as the noise got louder, all conversations began to die down, and the boys started to look at each other for answers.

"Do you hear that?" Ennoshita asked, frowning.

"Yeah..." Kuroo frowned. "It sounds like..."

"Daichi!" Oikawa called from the tower, and all eyes turned to him to see him aiming his rifle up at the sky. A second later, he looked down with a pinched look on his face. "It's a chopper!"

"A chopper?" a few of them echoed in unison, looking up at the sky. Indeed, there was a small black form getting closer and closer to them, and definitely making more and more noise.

"Are we due for a supply drop?" Asahi frowned, getting up. "Last time I checked our inventory, we were still good for a few days."

"Is it even for us, or are they passing by?" Bokuto pointed out, sitting up.

"We're the only living colony in a radius of several hours from here," Noya shook his head, joining their conversation. Soon enough, Kageyama and Oikawa joined them, too, all of them watching the chopper come nearer with some apprehension. And maybe some hope.

The noise from the chopper made the crowd below them go wild, as if cheering for some super celebrity just arriving on site. Although they were cheering for a meal that was now confirmed to be in the building. If the chopper turned out to be a false hope, Daichi would be pissed as hell for ruining their efforts to make the building look abandoned.

However, as it got closer, it seemed to slow down, and everyone took a step back, shielding themselves from the strong gusts of wind that assailed then as the chopper came to a halt above their heads.

"It has the N.E.T. logo on it!" Noya remarked, trying to glance up despite the heavy winds drying out his eyes.

"The door is opening," Kageyama added on, and all eyes went up to the chopper, which indeed had one of its doors slightly open. And suddenly, something fell from it.

"Noya, catch it!"

The scout moved with rapid reflexes, jumping towards where the small black object was falling, and diving to grab it before it hit the ground. He landed with an expert roll and jumped back up, brandishing the object, which was revealed to be a walkie-talkie upon closer look.

"Oh good, you got it," a voice crackled to life over it, Noya rushing to bring it closer to the others so they could listen as well. "Wasn't sure you'd get it when it changed drop course because of the winds."

"Who are you?" Daichi asked immediately, clutching the radio closely.

"Questions later. Now, you gotta listen to me to get out of this predicament," the voice continued, and the chopper began to move again. Daichi was about to ask where they were going when the voice continued. "We have a team up here, but we need to land them. And for that, we need a clear landing site, or as clear as we can get. We'll be needing your help."

The question hang in the air, though it wasn't much of a question. The survivors of Sigma-6 nodded to one another in a silent, unanimous accord.

"Tell us what to do," Kuroo spoke into the walkie-talkie, lips set in a thin frown.

"What a nice attitude. I think we'll get along just fine," the voice hummed. "Alright. I need everyone geared up for melee. We're going to decimate these bastards. First, we'll use the chopper to lead some of them away from the warehouse, onto the open field. This should leave at least one side of your fence open, and if it's not the gated side, you can just climb. There shouldn't be any barbed wire at the top."

"There isn't. Does everyone engage at once?" Daichi took control again, his heart hammering in their chest as he ran some basic calculations in his head. All eight of them wouldn't be much of an asset... but they had to try.

"Get your minutemen out first to distract the zombies. Separating their attention between several targets will disperse them, and avoid fighting in close quarters," the voice ordered, and Daichi nodded, immediately handing the radio to Oikawa.

"Oikawa, you're in charge!" he declared. "Kuroo, let's go!"

"Right!" the black-haired boy nodded, and the two minutemen left in a sprint towards the door.

"Our minutemen will be out in a minute," Oikawa couldn't help but quip, falling serious again. "We're two snipers up here. Do we engage at ground level?"

"How's your long-range?"

Oikawa looked at Kageyama, and the two nodded to one another, understanding despite the silence.

"Impeccable, sir," Oikawa smirked cockily.

"Good. Stay on the roof and protect your comrades. Our team's snipers will pick off at ground level from the chopper," the man sounded satisfied. "All the other positions, get ready for battle. Your front-liners should go out as soon as possible after your minutemen, and concentrate on dispersing crowds for easy pick-offs."

"I'll get ready," Bokuto immediately announced, running towards the door as well.

"The rest of you, wait until the offensive positions disperse the mob, and then engage," the voice finished. The chopper was beginning to descend now, further out into the field. As predicted, many of the zombies were breaking away from the warehouse fence to follow the loud noise made by it. Rather impressively, Kuroo and Daichi were already geared up in full uniform, out in the field with their weapons blazing in the matter of minutes.

"Let's move!" Oikawa called out, and everyone snapped into action.

Asahi, Ennoshita and Nishinoya headed for the staircase as quickly as possible whilst Kageyama and Oikawa rushed to the tower, rifles in hand.

Silently, efficiently, they both climbed the steps up to the tower, and threw open the small crate they kept there. Inside were packets of extra ammunition and their ski caps, which they pulled on to avoid getting hair in their eyes.

"Ready, Tobio?" Oikawa asked, putting his gun up against the barrier in a comfortable position, and adjusting his scope's lens. "This isn't for fun anymore."

"Tch," the black-haired boy imitated him from the other side of the tower. "This has never been a game to me."

And, back to back, the two snipers began to rain bullets down upon the earth.

Out on the field, Daichi and Kuroo immediately split, each marking a jogging trajectory that they'd follow to split the mob apart in two different directions. The voice on the radio had a pretty good plan so far, and they were eager to meet him.

Minutemen had traditionally simple arsenals of weapons, two knives strapped to their thighs and two handguns in holsters at chest level. Kuroo usually had his favourite crowbar with him, too, but in an actual Minuteman Manoeuvre, they weren't supposed to stop and grab things other than the bare necessities. That was the curse of a minuteman- a balanced agent well-versed in all the spheres of zombie warfare, with no specific skill other than that of being ready to engage the enemy within a matter of minutes.

At least, Kuroo could rest easy, knowing that soon, there would be a whole line of zombies being mowed down in a shot. If only his best friend could get his butt moving.

Granted, front-liners needed all the time they could get in getting prepared, because a single piece of equipment worn wrong could mean their death.

Kuroo busied himself with shooting some zombies down until the shrill squeaking of the sliding gate announced Bokuto's arrival.

The white-haired man always looked so official, and terrifying in his uniform. Kuroo never knew what impressed him the most; the kevlar vest, the leather forearm guards, or the heavy bat that Bokuto was spinning in his hand as if it weighed nothing at all.

(For such a dumb and sensitive guy, Bokuto may as well be the bravest, and strongest of them all).

He gave a battle cry, and launched himself into the mob.

Bokuto had always found strength within his brute force. It was something that many people didn't find appealing, or commendable, but Bokuto liked to remind them that he had been touched more times by zombies than any other person in any other position, and that he'd probably killed a hundred times more zombies than any of them had.

His skill was in decimating masses. And when he bragged, telling people he decimated masses, he didn't lie.

Every swing of Bokuto's bat hit its target, zombie after zombie after zombie crumpling under the sheer blunt force of his hits. He advanced slowly through the crowd that he'd decided to tackle, but he advanced with a carpet of dead bodies rolled out before him. Teeth gritted, balance adjusted, Bokuto moved his entire body with his weapon, putting his entire weight behind every swing.

The human skull was surprisingly resistant, usually taking a few hits to crack under a regular assault from a blunt object. But under attack from the combined offensive of Bokuto's heavy weapon, and his powerful swings, a skull was nothing but glass.

Brain matter and congealed blood flew all over him, but there was a strange pleasure in knowing that he was doing the bulk of the killing. So he went on. When a zombie grabbed his upper arm, he grabbed its arm right back and flipped it over his shoulder, into another zombie. Both of them fell, and Bokuto crushed their snapping heads with the soles of his steel-capped leather boots.

One of them fell on him from behind all of a sudden, grabbing his arms and sinking its teeth in his shoulder. Thankfully, its rotten teeth were absolutely no match for the kevlar vest, and Bokuto knew he had a few seconds to act before it moved onto another target, such as the vulnerable upper arms it had grabbed, and where Bokuto's skin was only protected by the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt.

He didn't need to act. A second later, the zombie was propelled back a bit, and fell to the ground with a bullet hole in its head.

Bokuto didn't know if it was Kageyama or Oikawa that he saluted, but he did put his hand up at the tower as a gesture of thanks. And then, with a deep breath, he dove back in.

While he got busy annihilating large groups of undead, Asahi, Ennoshita and Nishinoya came running out, dressed in moderately protective gear. Asahi and Ennoshita immediately engaged, although Noya's priority seemed to be in aiding the minutemen disperse the crowds. To date, there had been nobody more agile than him in the warehouse, after all. He'd spent his three years at Karasuno specializing in urban parkour, stealth operations, and baiting, and he was damn good at what he did.

Especially baiting.

Zombies really seemed to like small people. It was weird to note.

Noya might have looked funny, running around the battlefield incessantly, but along with Kuroo's and Daichi's efforts, soon enough, the whole crowd of zombies was dispersed, and the agents had less risks of being ganged up on and overwhelmed.

That's finally the moment where the chopper's crew decided that it was safe to land, and the chopper door slid open, even as it began its landing.

Some of the zombies close to some of the agents began to fall, and a quick glance at the chopper proved that two new snipers were at work. As the chopper came within a few feet of the ground, three people jumped out, clothed lightly just like Daichi and Kuroo, and ran into the fray with their handguns blazing.

Though all of the Sendai agents were curious to see the newcomers, a single second of distraction could lead to their untimely deaths, so, trying to ignore the new orders being barked on the battlefield, they kept at their game.

The chopper landed softly, and even before its rotor blades had stopped spinning, several agents jumped out of the cabin, adjusting vests exactly like Bokuto's.

Up on the tower, Oikawa briefly deviated his vision from the zombies to look at the chopper, and when he recognized a wave of front-liners rushing into battle, he knew that victory would be theirs on that day.

His heart fluttered, and he almost missed his next target, catching its back instead of its head. The zombie fell to the ground with a broken spine, dragging itself forward painstakingly with its arms until one of the newcoming minutemen shot it on the run. Oikawa made up for his mistake by taking out a zombie coming at the tall blond minuteman from the other side.

People kept pouring out of the chopper, and for a second, Kuroo, who was beholding the whole operation, began to believe that the chopper was actually a black hole. There was no way so many people could have fit in there, on top of all of their bags and weapons. They must have been cramped on the way to Sendai.

Still, thanks to the newcomers in such number and in such ferocity -Kuroo almost winced when one of the new front-liners ripper off a zombie's arm with his bare hands-, the cleanup operation began to speed up, until it was almost hard to believe that so few zombies were left. It made Daichi wonder if they really had locked themselves up for ten days with good reason.

(But they had. Even with all of these newcomers, the extermination took a while, so they never would have been able to handle it themselves).

Their limbs ached by the time they were allowed to stop, the influx of zombies down to a controllable level, and then to none at all. As they struck down the last zombies, the agents all found themselves retreating towards one another, mostly by instinct than anything else, until they were close enough to be heard by one another.

Finally, it was one of the new minutemen who spoke up, ruffling his short brown hair to shake out the bits of flayed flesh wound in the strands.

"Well... that's that! Now let's go inside, I'm fucking freezing!" he whined, rubbing his skin where his arms were unprotected by his uniform t-shirt.

All eyes turned to him, and he seemed to be enjoying the attention, until the tall, white-haired front-liner put a bloody hand on his shoulder heavily.

"Futakuchi, shut up."

"You haven't said a word to me all ride long, and now this!" the minuteman -Futakuchi- whined, shaking off the white-haired boy's hand in disgust. "Aone, you're so cold to me!"

The other boy didn't reply, merely grunted and looked away.

"Ah, here's the new boss," another front-liner with short-cropped light brown hair hummed, motioning towards the chopper.

Immediately, all eyes went to the chopper, where several people were now bringing down the bags and stacking them. A man with black, curly hair and glasses suddenly came to stand in the doorway, and all eyes went to the determined look on his face.

As he stepped down onto the ground, he tripped and landed on his face.

"Oh no, I'm sorry!" he apologized to no one in particular, and Kuroo turned to the nearest newcomer, a tall, blonde -and handsome- minuteman with a look of disbelief on his face.

"That's... that's our new commander?" he asked, unsure.

"No, that's the new supervisor. Not sure what his name is, don't really care," the blond shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "The commander's the blond one with the cigarette."

Kuroo turned, and indeed, there was now a younger-looking man with an unlit cigarette between his lips standing next to the supervisor, helping him up with an exasperated look on his face.

He didn't look like much of a commander, with his bleached-blond hair held back by a headband and his clothes not particularly remarkable. But then again, none of them were killers, and yet here they were.

"Are you him, then?" Daichi called out, putting the walkie talkie up in the air. All faces turned to him, including the blond's. "Our new commander, the one on the radio. Are you him?"

"Hmm?" the blond raised an eyebrow, taking his sweet time to process the words. His hands fumbled around in his pockets for something, and he pulled out a lighter. He didn't seem to notice Daichi's deadpan when he busied himself with lighting his cigarette, and seemed to forget the question until he took his first puff.

That's when he put a hand to his chin, as if in deep thought, and then smirked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

Daichi feared that this would be a very long introduction. Good thing it was time for lunch.

…-...-...-...-...-...-...

The groundskeepers didn't appreciate being told that they had to come up with lunch in thirty minutes, on top of cleaning themselves up. Thankfully, Asahi and Ennoshita got a break to go to the showers and tidy up, the two new groundskeepers insisting they take over for now.

By the time the medics had finished their extensive corpse-disposal job, all the fighters had gotten cleaned and changed, and everyone was amassed in the common room, which now seemed small.

"Erm.." Daichi began, looking around at all the familiar and unfamiliar faces. They were missing the medics, who should be heading back soon, and Oikawa and Kageyama, who still hadn't come down from the roof, probably on the lookout for new zombies that could have ambled towards the warehouse, attracted by the noise of the chopper.

He decided not to wait for them and begin.

"So, uhh... Everyone, welcome to Sendai," he started a bit unsurely, not confident with his public speaking skills. "As you can see, it's a bit empty... We lost half of our agents to circumstances ten days ago. But the rest of us who are still here are very glad to have you."

"Yeah, cause we saved your butts," a tall, silver-haired boy cheered, yelping when the smaller brown-haired boy next to him pulled on his ear.

"Shut up, Lev!"

"Well, yeah, you did. So thanks, I guess," Daichi stumbled over his words, not liking how all eyes were on him. Still, he had to do this, so he took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. "Anyway, I'm Daichi Sawamura, and I'm Sendai's appointed dispatch agent. It's nice to meet you all, and I hope to work in close relation with all of you."

"Nice to meet you!" Everyone, or almost, echoed back.

"Sorry we're late!" a little voice called out from the back, people making space for the silver-haired medic to squeeze in between a few people. Another medic slid into the crowd, and the female medic went over to the only two other girls amongst the bunch of men and whispered something into the small blonde's ear.

Yes, Daichi decided as he looked at the silver-haired medic, he definitely wanted to work in close relation with him.

"So I guess what we'll do before going for lunch is just introduce ourselves. After lunch, we can get you guys moved in, and maybe after dinner, we can get you acquainted with warehouse procedures," Daichi suggested.

"Sounds like a plan, Sawamura," the new base commander nodded, Daichi straightening his back in pride at the praise.

"Daichi, please!" he insisted sheepishly, and then rubbed the back of his neck. "Anyway, I guess we'll introduce by positions. Let's have the minutemen up first."

A few people broke away from the crowd, moving to the front, Kuroo amongst them.

"So as you now know, my name's Daichi, I'm 19, and I have 3 years at Karasuno," Daichi bowed.

"I'm Kuroo Tetsurou, 20, with 3 years at Nekoma. There better be Nekoma people in this crowd!" he demanded, with only the loud silver-haired boy from before cheering, and the brown-haired boy hushing him again.

"I'm Tsukishima Kei, 18, 3 years at Karasuno," the tall blond recited, boredom lacing his every word.

"You didn't even say it was nice to meet them, you damn titan!" the orange-haired boy next to him frowned.

"You wanna try me, midget?" Tsukishima countered, smirking down at the smaller boy.

"Hmph!" he huffed, crossing his arms and turning away from Tsukishima. "Well I'm Hinata Shouyo, 18, 3 years at Karasuno as well!"

"And I'm Kenji Futakuchi, 19, with 3 years at Date Tech," the brunet at the end introduced himself. "Pleasure." His eyes narrowed at the crowd.

"Alright, let's move on," Daichi suggested, all the minutemen going to sit down. At that moment, the skidding of skin on metal announced the descent of someone from a fireman pole, and Daichi looked up to find Oikawa rushing down, followed by Kageyama.

"Sorry we're late!" the brunet screeched, jogging to the common room breathlessly. "We just wanted to make sure there was nothing left out there before coming here."

"Well, since you're here, we can do the snipers' introductions," Daichi suggested, giving place to Oikawa, who made his way to the front and caught his breath before giving them all a brilliant smile.

"Hello all! I'm Oikawa Tooru, 20, a wonderful sniper with 4 years at Aoba Johsai! Nice to meet you!" and he winked. Particularly at the girls looking either disinterested, frightened, or amused in the corner.

"Ew, Oikawa, your gross personality is showing again!" a voice came from the crowd, and Oikawa's gaze went to the source of the voice, his eyes wide.

He fell upon the sleazy grins of two boys, one with short-cropped brown hair and another with messy black hair. And his mouth fell open.

"Mattsun!" he cried out in genuine surprise. "Makki!"

"Oikawa," the two of them greeted simultaneously.

"High school reunions later, ladies," Futakuchi called out.

"You betcha we've got some catching up to do!" Oikawa grinned at the two boys before returning to his spot in the front.

Speaking of catching up, Kageyama finally wriggled his way to the front, uncomfortable with the attention.

"I'm Kageyama Tobio, and I'm 18. I have had three years at Karasuno," he introduced himself.

"I think I know you!" Hinata cried out, pointing accusingly at Kageyama, who balked at the accusation.

"Huh!?"

"Futakuchi was right. Reunions later, please," their commander sighed, looking tired already.

They all fell silent, still not knowing what to expect from the older blond.

"I am Akaashi Keiji," the next sniper introduced himself, his dark eyes glancing across the crowd in what seemed like disinterest. "19, 3 years at Fukurodani."

"Fukuroda-" Bokuto began to cheer, but Kuroo slapped his hand on his mouth to hold him back. Bokuto just gave the new sniper a silent thumbs up.

"And I'm Kozume Kenma, 19, 3 years at Nekoma," the last one introduced himself, almost as monotonely as Akaashi. His grown-out, bleached hair swished from side to side with the slightest movement of his head.

"Okay, let's have the front-liners next, and let's make it quick so we can go eat," Daichi ordered.

"Alright, well, I'm Bokuto Koutaro," Bokuto began even before reaching the front. "20, with 4 years at the awesome Fukurodani!"

"I am Takanobu Aone," the next one introduced himself, towering over most people and looking intimidating with his scary expression. "19, 3 years at Date Tech."

"I'm Matsukawa Issei," Oikawa's messy-haired friend introduced himself.

"And I'm Hanamaki Takahiro," Oikawa's other friend grinned.

"We're both 20, with 3 years at Aoba Johsai," Matsukawa finished.

"And no, you can't call us Mattsun and Makki."

Oikawa looked like he'd bitten back a retort.

"And lastly?" Daichi prompted to the last front-liner, who didn't look like a front-liner at all.

He had strange blond hair with two shaved, black stripes on the side. His eyes screamed a slow and painful death for anyone who opposed him.

"Kyotani Kentaro," he grunted, looking away. "19, 3 years at Aoba Johsai."

"Moving on, groundskeepers, please," Daichi prompted, and the people in the front quickly shifted.

"I'm Azumane Asahi, 20 with 4 years at Karasuno!"

"Ennoshita Chikara, 19, 3 years at Karasuno! Nice to meet you!"

"Ah, I'm from Karasuno, too," the next groundskeeper announced excitedly, the freckles on his cheeks visible in the bright light that was now turned on inside the warehouse. "My name is Yamaguchi Tadashi, 18, with 3 years of training."

"No fair, I'm not from Karasuno," the last groundskeeper pouted. "But I'm from Nekoma! The name's Inuoka So, 18, with 3 years under my belt!"

"Nice to meet you. Medics?" Daichi called up.

"Right here!" the silver-haired man from earlier raised his hand. "I'm Sugawara Koushi, 20, 4 years at Karasuno!"

"Yahaba Shigeru!" the next one, with soft brown hair, greeted them with a warm smile. "19, with 3 years at Aoba Johsai!"

"And now for the ladies!" one of the three girls crowed out, grinning widely at everyone who turned to look at her. She tucked a strand of her short, honey-coloured hair behind one of her ears, pierced four times, before she continued. "The name's Tanaka Saeko. 21, 4 years at Karasuno. Hello to all!"

"Wonderful," Daichi smiled at her energy. "Maybe we can get introductions from your two other ladies?" he motioned to the girls who were next to Saeko.

"Sure. We're the researchers here," the black haired girl shrugged, adjusting her glasses. "I am Shimizu Kiyoko, the physical scientist. I am 20, and I have had 4 years at Karasuno."

"And I'm Hitoka Yachi!" the little blond next to her almost screeched out, visibly nervous amongst all the boys in the group. "I'm 18, with 3 years at Karasuno as a social scientist, so please take care of me! It's nice to meet you!"

"It's a pleasure, ladies," their commander hummed, flashing the flustered-looking Yachi a small smile.

Well, if he could smile, Kuroo figured, then he couldn't be that bad.

"Who do we have left?" the commander asked, glancing at the crowd.

"The scouts!" Nishinoya yelled out at the same time as the silver-haired boy who towered over him.

"Go ahead, then. And then let's go eat."

"Nishinoya Yuu, awesome senpai at your service!" Noya introduced himself first. "19, with 3 years at Karasuno!"

"And I am Haiba Lev," the beanpole next to him hummed out. "Scouting master extraordinaire!"

"He's 18, with 3 years at Nekoma, don't let him rattle on," the smaller boy next to him sighed, looking exasperated. "And I'm Yaku Morisuke, 20, with 3 years at Nekoma. It's very nice to be working with you all!"

"Ah, we've got such a wonderful bunch here at Sigma-6," the black-haired man next to the commander piped up excitedly. "It looks like everyone's going to get along well!"

"Right," the commander nodded, turning away. "Now, let's go eat. I'm starving!"

"But we haven't heard about you yet!" Bokuto protested, voicing the thought that was going through everyone's head. "You're going to be our new commander, so we might as well get to know you, too."

"Ah, right," the man hummed, as if he'd forgotten. "Well, there's not much to say. I am Ukai Keishin, 26, and I'm going to be the new commander for Sigma-6 from now on. I had 4 years of training in Karasuno, back in the day, then was 1 year in Sigma-2, 3 years in Delta-5, 1 year in Delta-9, and I had just been transferred to Epsilon-1 when I got the notice of promotion. Apparently, your old commander wasn't doing so well, and people figured I might do better, for some reason."

"It's nice to meet you, commander!" the entirety of the group echoed out messily, bowing to him. Ukai looked a bit uncomfortable with the attention.

"None of that. I'm not much one for pleasantries. You can show me respect when you work your ass off in training and go over your quotas in expeditions," he shrugged.

"Commander!" Nishinoya piped up, raising his hand up though he was already speaking. "What position have you trained for?"

"Hmm..." the blond mused for a second. "Well, the first one to come to me and tell me the answer to that, along with their rationale, can get... something. I'll figure it out. Takeda can check once we have our budget cleared."

"Ah, yes!" the man with the glasses, Takeda, obviously, grinned. "I'm the last one to introduce myself. I'm sorry! My name is Takeda Ittetsu, and I am 29. I had 3 years of training as a social scientist in Karasuno, and then spent some time researching for the N.E.T. before being assigned to Epsilon-8, where I did 3 years. As I prepared to be transferred to a Theta division on my birthday in a few months, I decided to put in a request to become a supervisor instead, and, well... Since they were replacing Sigma-6's commander, they replaced the supervisor as well, and I ended up here!"

"Nice to meet you, sensei!" the members of Sigma-6 bowed to him as well.

"Right! If you ever need anything, you can come and see me, then!" Takeda grinned, re-adjusting his huge glasses. "Now. Before Commander Ukai gets tired with us, let's all go eat!"

"Hell yeah!" Bokuto screeched out, thus adjourning their meeting.

...-...-...-...-...-...-...

It was weird to see so many people in Sendai all of a sudden. Oikawa was relatively new to the base, but even he could tell that it had never been this full before. Everywhere he looked, there were people, Sigma-6's slightly pathetic count of 8 members now up to an almost-complete count of 28. He didn't expect them to get any new members on top of all the newcomers, but there were only 2 more places left in the warehouse, so they were better off conserving them.

Oikawa didn't know why so many people had arrived so suddenly. There must have been a reason for the N.E.T. to have sent twenty more agents to Sendai out of the blue, but he couldn't think of anything. However, he wasn't about to complain. The silence had been maddening in those ten days of siege, and Oikawa was glad that they had so much noise filling the air now to make up for all the time they had spent with only their own breathing in their ears. It helped him forget the haunting moaning that had been reverberating inside his inner ear for a while.

Besides, he had Makki and Mattsun with him now, two of his closest teammates from the training days back in Seijoh. He couldn't complain. He didn't need anything more.

(But he did, and he knew it. But he didn't dare ask for too much, not when he knew that the chances of being disappointed were so great. He had Makki and Mattsun, Bokuto and Kuroo, even that little shit Kageyama with him now. He'd definitely get to know everybody else, and would forget about him.

He didn't need to think of Iwaizumi Hajime anymore. He was only a ghost of the past -who haunted his dreams nonetheless. He couldn't forget Hajime-.

He settled into his bunk, taking a deep breath and banishing his thoughts. Now that everything had been moved around to accommodate the newcomers, Oikawa had gotten a new bunkmate, though he admitted that he didn't know the guy's name by heart yet. But he wasn't in a hurry. They would all be here for a while.

"Tomorrow will be a full training day for everyone so that I have time to evaluate you and your skills, and get a feel for your fighting styles," Ukai had told all of the field agents over dinner. "I'm not sending you out on the field alone, so I need to know how to break you down into squads. We'll do that tomorrow, and take some time to get settled in."

On top of all that, their supply drop was due in 4 days, and the sudden influx of people had not been kind to their stores. Their commander had made the wise decision of keeping them inside and away from danger when they weren't at their best, and their supervisor immediately began to work on rearranging the new budget, promising to take a look at equipment and building repairs as well.

Everything seemed to fall in order quickly, quicker than Oikawa expected it to. But then again, he couldn't expect anything with these people anymore.

Sigma-6 was turning out to be an even bigger adventure than he first thought it would be. So he closed his eyes and made himself comfortable on his hard, army-issued mattress, letting the idle chattering and muffled laughter of his team members lull him into the first real sleep he'd had in ten days.

Because honestly, he couldn't wait to see what tomorrow had in store for them.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Before you go crazy because there are literally 28 characters in this goddamn fic, lemme just remind you that the captains are the main characters, and so all the other characters are there to support their development. So some stuff might happen in the background, but mostly, these characters are going to be used in relation to the captains, rather than as individuals. For the most part anyway. I like Kageyama's character in this one and he and Hinata are def gonna have something on the side.**

 **As for pairings... well, still undecided, so I'm gonna need your opinions. I wanna go for my guilty, indulgent rarepairs as well as the practically-canon generic ones. So far, the ships I want to include somewhere are: IwaOi, KuroTsukki, KurOi, BoKuroo, KuroDai, OiKage, UshiOi, with a side of KenHina, maybe TsukiKage, and EnnoDai. Best-friendships are gonna be a-plenty, but I want to include KuroKen, BokuAka, DaiSuga, KyoHaba, HanaMatsu and everything else you can think of. But endgame pairings are kind of up in the air so far. Opinions please!**

 **Divisions are by age, remember. Sigma is 18-21. Delta is 22-25. Epsilon is 26-29. Theta is 30-33.**

 **Don't expect quick updates for this fic either, just cause I've got a shitton on my mind and on my plate (only figuratively, ironically enough haha) nowadays, so this is really just something to help me vent when I need it. Still, I hope you're enjoying so far, and I hope you'll follow for more.**


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